


A Lie, Told Often Enough

by Jade4813



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Mutual Pining, Rock Star AU, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-12
Updated: 2019-05-20
Packaged: 2019-08-22 10:44:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 58,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16596362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jade4813/pseuds/Jade4813
Summary: Iris just landed her dream job at a PR firm and her first assignment is reforming the bad boy image of celebrity artist Barry Allen. He’s overly cocky and well-known for being a playboy, but Iris has never met a challenge she couldn’t handle. Inspired by fallinginloveinaflash/newsflash52's AU prompt!





	1. Chapter 1

A Lie, Told Often Enough

She was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.

Barry stopped in the doorway of the coffee shop, unwittingly blocking traffic as he tried to catch his breath. Someone bumped into him from behind, the jolt propelling him towards the counter, where the woman in question was smiling as she took a customer’s order. It was that smile that had caught his attention and stolen his breath the moment he’d walked through the door.

This was ridiculous. He couldn’t believe that the mere sight of her had this effect on him. He tried to gather his thoughts, but the line in front of him moved quickly and he was in front of her before he even knew it. “Good evening!” she greeted him brightly, throwing him that smile again. “What can I get you?”

He wanted to remove his sunglasses to see if the heavy shades were somehow distorting her appearance, making her even more stunning than she truly was. But, remembering why he was wearing them to begin with, he left them on and ducked his head a little, hoping the brim of his baseball cap would obscure his face from view.

“I don’t know,” he replied. He could no longer remember what he’d had in mind when he walked in. Then, realizing how that sounded, he rushed to explain, “The thing is, I just got into town for work. I’m on hour forty-six with no sleep, and I have at least four more hours to go before I can collapse. I’m not sure my usual would do. I was hoping you could recommend something that maybe I haven’t tried before.”

The barista pursed her lips in thought. “I think I know just what you need. Heather, can you take over here?” A statuesque redhead stepped up behind her, and Iris scooted to the side and grabbed a cup. After taking a moment to scribble something on the side, she started to grind some coffee beans. “You don’t have any allergies, do you?”

He shook his head, watching her hands as she worked. As graceful as a dancer, she added various syrups to the cup and began to heat some milk. “So, uh, are you guys always this busy?” he asked, breaking the silence between them, then winced at the inanity of his question. His current fumbling nervousness was so different from his public persona, he could only imagine what his people would say if they could see him now.

She glanced up at him, a small smile curving the corners of her mouth. “No. There’s a concert tonight at The Vogue, a block or so away. Barry Allen’s in town. The opening act starts in a little over an hour, and we usually get a pretty decent rush from the pre-concert crowd.” 

Something about the way she said his name gave him pause, and he adjusted the rim of his cap to better hide his features. “Not a fan, huh?” he asked with a wry smile. 

She shrugged, adding some cayenne pepper to the cup. “Of the Bad Boy of Music Row?” He winced at the epithet a magazine had given him a few years before. He hadn’t been able to escape it since. “He’s fine. I mean, he’s talented, that’s for sure. I had a roommate that played his album Shadows and Light on endless repeat. I had to threaten to throw her stereo out the window before she gave it a rest. I guess I just don’t find the cocky bad boy thing all that interesting.” 

She added brewed coffee to his cup, poured in some heated milk, and topped it off with some whipped cream. Then she added a dash more of cayenne pepper on top. “Here,” she said, handing it over. “Try this.”

Barry’s hand brushed against hers as he grabbed the cup, and he jumped at the little jolt of electricity that sparked between them. Lifting the cup to his mouth, he took a cautious sip. “Wow. This is amazing. I’ll have to come back in and get another one the next time I’m in town.”

Iris was visibly pleased at his response to her drink, but she shook her head. “You’ll be out of luck, I’m afraid. This is my last week working here. I just landed my dream job, so if you’d come in any later, you might have missed out on my masterpiece.”

Barry opened his mouth, wanting to ask her out on a date. Wanting to prolong the moment. But he knew there was no point. Central City might be his home, but he was only in town for the night. Tomorrow, he’d be in another state. Next week, he’d be in another country. There was no use in trying to pretend he could pursue a normal, steady relationship. Not when he was on tour for more than two-hundred days in the year. 

“It’s really good,” he reiterated. “What do I owe you?”

She shook her head. “This one’s on me. Just get some sleep, okay?” Then she turned her attention to the next customer in line, and the moment was lost. Barry sighed as he turned to the door. As he walked out, he glanced at the writing on the cup. Where baristas usually wrote the customer’s name, she’d written, “Sleepyhead” with a little smiley face.

Barry chuckled as he turned to walk back to The Vogue. He’d blown off his responsibilities long enough. Harrison was probably already having an aneurism that he’d gone missing. But it was with reluctance that he made his way back to the theater. He used to love being a musician. His heart would pound with the roar of the crowd. The rush he would get when inspired by a new song was like being on top of the world.

Now he was just…tired. Lately, he’d found himself wondering if it wasn’t time to try something new. But not tonight. Just a few more hours, and he’d be able to collapse on the tour bus. Maybe he’d even get some sleep.

He took another sip of coffee, feeling the slight burn as the cayenne pepper hit the back of his throat. However, it was the memory of a smile that put a spring in his step and a grin on his face later that evening when he headed out onto the stage.

* * *

Iris clenched her hands into fists in her lap and stopped herself from gnawing at her lower lip. She focused on her breathing, taking long, measured breaths in an attempt to slow her racing heart. Her fingers itched to open the folder in her lap so she could review the contents once again, but she forced herself to remain still. She had studied the file so much, she knew its contents by heart. She had all the knowledge she needed to succeed in her new job. What she needed was to project an air of cool confidence, so that her client would be reassured his image makeover was in the right hands.

One…two…three…four…five…six. Iris counted silently as she sucked in a deep breath. Then she blew it out again just as slowly. One…two…three… But against her best intentions, she found herself flipping open the folder to skim the article on top of the pile. _Heartbreaker to Hollywood Heartthrob? The Bad Boy of Music Row Eyes the Silver Screen._

She was so focused on reviewing her notes that she almost missed the call for her stop, managing to jump over the threshold onto the platform a second before the doors slid shut behind her. Cursing herself for her inattentiveness, she glanced at her watch and then cursed again when she saw the time. She’d torn a contact lens this morning and had to wear her glasses. Then she’d spilled coffee on her white blouse and had to change clothes at the last minute. And now her train had run late. “Of all the days…” Iris muttered to herself, walking as quickly as her stride could take her towards the stairs leading up to the street. At all of five-foot-four, that stride wasn’t as long as she would wish.

She burst through the front doors to Bridge Communications at a near-run and waved to the receptionist as she darted towards the conference room. This was her first meeting with her first client on her first big assignment for her dream job. She absolutely couldn’t be late.

Iris hit the door to the conference room with a minute to spare and pasted a smile on her face before throwing open the door and stepping inside. “Good morning, gentlemen,” she said brightly.

“Right on time,” Mason Bridge greeted her with an approving smile that gave her a last-minute boost in confidence. “Iris West, meet your new client, Barry Allen. Mr. Allen, this is the woman I was telling you about. You want to rehabilitate your public image? She’s just the one to do it.”

Iris turned to the man sitting on the couch. His fingers had been tapping a rhythm on the expensive leather, but they’d stopped when she entered the room. 

He was absolutely gorgeous. Better looking in person than he was in print, even. This time, it wasn’t nerves that made her breath unsteady. In a soft voice and with a slightly shaky smile, she murmured, “Pleased to meet you.”


	2. Chapter 2

Iris turned to Barry, expecting a response as Mason took his leave, but he didn’t say a word. His eyes narrowed as he met her gaze in silence, as though he was waiting for something. She didn’t know what he could be waiting for, however; her smile slipped just a fraction as she waited in return. After a moment, he scowled and looked away, his fingers resuming their drumbeat on the leather cushion.

Clearing her throat, Iris stepped forward and took a seat in a chair facing the couch. “Before we can discuss our strategy, there are some things I want to –”

“I don’t think this is a good idea,” he mumbled.

His words took her by surprise; she didn’t even know how to process them at first. “What?”

Barry shrugged, not looking her way. “Isn’t there someone else I can work with?”

Iris straightened, her eyes narrowing. “Excuse me?” she asked, all warmth draining from her voice. She didn’t know why his attitude surprised her. She’d read the articles about him. More than one had described his standoffishness. It was just too bad that someone that good looking was also a bit of a jerk.

He shot her a quick glance out of the corner of his eye and then grimaced, lifting one shoulder in a shrug. “Mason? Or Linda Park? She worked with a friend of mine and did a good job. I thought I’d be working with someone like her.”

Reminding herself to maintain her professional demeanor, Iris placed her folder on her lap, folded her hands on top, and threw him a steady look. “That’s exactly why Mason asked me to step in on this one. You want a whole image overhaul. And believe me, you’re going to need all the help you can get.” His head snapped around at her words, and she forced herself to meet his eyes unflinchingly. If she was going to succeed in this assignment – in this industry – she knew she couldn’t let him get the better of her.

She continued, “You’ll be more successful at cleaning up your image if it isn’t quite so obviously a PR stunt. Linda and Mason are well known for their work in the industry. I’ve worked more behind the scenes in the past, so if we’re careful, nobody needs to know that you’ve employed our agency at all.” Flipping open the folder, she grabbed a pen and prompted, “So, should we get started?”

Barry scowled, but after a moment, he conceded, “All right. You win.”

She threw him a tight smile, still rattled by his earlier demeanor and trying to hide it. She was already nervous enough about taking on her first solo assignment. His attitude had hardly bolstered her confidence. Still, she knew she couldn’t afford for him to see her nerves, so she took a steady breath. “As I was saying. Before we can finalize a strategy, I have some questions for you. These will help me clarify a few things and ensure that we are moving forward with the best strategy for you. All right?”

He gave her a quick nod, though his tone remained cautious. “Go ahead.”

She glanced down at her notes. Though she knew them all by heart, they bought her time to get her thoughts in order. Adjusting her glasses, she said, “Mason took fairly comprehensive notes from your first meeting, so I know that you’re wanting to shed the arrogant bad boy image the media is so fond of –”

He chuckled and threw her a grin that she was sure had melted more than a few hearts in his day. “I don’t remember saying _arrogant_ ,” he pointed out.

Iris looked at him over the rim of her glasses and threw him her sweetest smile. “Didn’t you? My mistake. At any rate, I know the image you want to leave behind, but that doesn’t tell me what you want your image to be. Do you have any thoughts on that?”

Barry frowned slightly, his forehead creasing in thought. “I don’t…what do you mean? I want to be…I don’t know. Better. I’m not sure what else – what do you mean?”

“Well, there aren’t just bad boys and good guys in Hollywood. You majored in sciences in college, so we could go for brainy rebel. Or some people make a name for themselves through their philanthropy and charity work. You have family men or the actors who are known for always being gentlemen. I mean, Hugh Jackman, Idris Elba, Steve Buscemi, Keanu Reeves, Tom Hanks, and Will Smith are all known for being good guys. But they’re known for being good guys for different things, you know? So what do you want to be known for?”

“I – I guess I hadn’t thought about it. I’m not sure,” he admitted.

Rubbing her lower lip with one finger, she mused, “Hm. Well, why are you wanting to change your image? You made your name in rock and roll, so your current image seems to be working for you. Hollywood may be a bit different from the music industry, but not enough that being known as a bad boy will hold you back much, depending on what you want to do. So why are you doing this?”

His eyes dropping to his lap, Barry asked, “That’s a pretty personal question, isn’t it?”

“If we’re going to do this, we’re going to have to work pretty closely together over the next few months.”

“Months?” he blurted. He didn’t look any happier about it than she felt. 

She nodded. “It takes time to rework an image from scratch – if you want people to buy it, at least. I’m sure that, like with many celebrities, you’re very protective of your privacy. You try to keep your private and professional lives separate. But I’m your PR agent; I’m not a member of the press, and I’m not fan.”

“Trust me. I know,” he mumbled. Iris wasn’t sure what he meant by that, but she didn’t push. Instead, she waited patiently until he heaved a heavy sigh and leaned back. “I want to do it for my parents.”

That wasn’t the answer she’d expected, and the tenderness in his voice actually made her lower her guard for a second. “Is everything…are they okay?” she asked in genuine concern.

His smile softened as he looked at her. “Yeah, they’re…they’re great. Thank you.” 

She held his gaze for a moment and then turned back to her notes and finished writing. “So, you’re a family man. That’s great! We can work with that.” She flipped through some more papers and jotted down some notes as she got her thoughts on their plan in order. “Are you in a relationship right now? In love with anyone?” she asked distractedly as she worked.

“What? Me? No! I’m not – of course not! We-well, not of course not. I mean, I guess it’s not that strange of a – of course I could be in love! I’m just…I’m not. Right now. In a relationship. Or anything. I mean, wh-why? Does it matter?” he stammered. It was the first time she’d heard him so nonplussed, and she looked up at him in surprise. He was blushing. Barry Allen, serial heartbreaker and named one of the Sexiest Men Alive the prior year, was blushing.

Interesting. She didn’t know what it meant, but it was definitely interesting. Maybe he had a secret crush?

Putting that question aside, she closed her folder and tossed it aside. “All right, then I think I have a game plan. We need the world to see you in a relationship.”

Barry jumped to his feet and started to pace, looking away from her again as his blush faded. “How is that going to help? New rumors about my dating life circulate every week. Some of them have even been true.”

“That’s because it can’t just be with anyone. It needs to be with the right kind of someone. Someone who has just the right image.” 

Rising to her feet, Iris noticed his agitation and filed it away, as well. However, her voice was earnest when she explained, “If there’s one thing people love, it’s a good love story. If there’s something they love even more, it’s a story of transformation and redemption through love. A little Beauty and the Beast, if you know what I mean.”

“Let me guess…I’m the Beast?” he asked, throwing her a grin over his shoulder.

She returned it. “Not for long, if you cooperate. After all, that’s why you’re here, isn’t it?”

He threw up his hands in defeat. “All right. I guess you win.”

Iris laughed and walked around to face him. “Great. So we find the right person to link you with romantically, and take it from there. I guess I should ask…what’s your type?”

“My type?”

She nodded. “Brunette? Blonde? What? You’ve been linked with so many girls, I couldn’t get a clear read on you.”

“Why does it matter?” he asked.

She shrugged. “Stories are easier to sell when they’re close to the truth. You don’t have to pretend as hard to be attracted to someone if they’re the type of person you’re actually attracted to.”

His head tilted to the side, he considered her gravely. “Okay. I’m into…uh…tall…blondes.”

She didn’t know why she felt a tiny thread of disappointment. She didn’t even like him! He had done nothing but annoy her from the moment they met! Pushing that feeling aside, she smiled up at him. “Okay. I’ll see what I can do. You ready for this?”

Barry sighed. “Why not?”

* * *

A couple days later, Barry was sitting in his parents’ living room, idly strumming his guitar as Harrison and Cisco discussed the finishing touches for his latest album, when his phone buzzed. Only half-listening to the conversation, he pulled it out of his pocket and looked at the txt.

It was from Iris. Just seeing her name on his screen made him smile. _“I think I have the perfect girl for you. Can you come by the office tonight? She’s coming by at 5 to meet with Mason.”_

 _“I’ll see what I can do,”_ he texted in return.

“What’s that about?” Cisco asked, breaking into his thoughts. 

His head snapped up, and he caught his friend’s gaze. “What?” he asked.

“You’re smiling. You never smile.”

“What are you talking about? I smile!” he protested with an affronted look. 

Cisco rolled his eyes. “You put on a show for the cameras. You don’t smile. What’s going on?”

He hesitated, wondering what he should tell them. Of course they knew he would be working with a PR agency to clean up his image. It was something they had all discussed as a team before he’d even signed the papers. But he’d never told them about his meeting with Iris, and he certainly hadn’t told them that the girl with the smile he hadn’t been able to get out of his mind since was now in charge of doing so. 

He didn’t really know why he hadn’t told them about it, except that he shared so much of himself with his fans, with his team, that it was nice to have something that was just his alone. “Nothing’s going on! I’m just thinking about the album,” he lied, slipping his phone back into his pocket. “Hey, I’m going to need to push back our studio time tonight. Something’s come up.”

Cisco narrowed his eyes at him. “Uh huh. Nothing’s going on,” he mocked. Barry ignored him, turning his attention back to his guitar.

* * *

Later that day, Barry put his hands in his pockets as he strolled casually towards Iris’s office. He’d hung back, intentionally arriving twenty minutes late. He was well known for never showing up anywhere on time, but he hadn’t done it this time to maintain his bad boy image. He did it because he didn’t want Iris to know how eager he was to see her.

Not that she’d probably care, even if she knew. She’d made it clear she wasn’t a fan the first time they’d met. Their first meeting clearly hadn’t been as memorable for her as it had been for him, given that she hadn’t recognized him when they met again at her office. And he certainly hadn’t made the best impression on her that day. He’d just been so surprised to see her that day, and he’d reacted badly when he’d remembered she was exactly the kind of woman he couldn’t – or shouldn’t – be with.

So, really, all things considered, he didn’t know why he couldn’t get her out of his mind. He just couldn’t.

Iris looked up from her desk as he walked through the door, and he gave her a quick nod. He tended to stammer when he was nervous, and he’d learned early in his career to keep his mouth shut when he was anxious, rather than give himself away. The press tended to interpret his silence as brooding intensity, and that fed into the image that had always worked so well for him in the past. 

“Oh, you’re finally here,” she greeted him, a thin thread of irritation in her voice. “We were just about to give up on you.”

“We?” he asked, turning to the blonde sitting in the chair. He recognized her, of course. Everyone knew America’s Sweetheart, Patty Spivot. Queen of the Romcom. He was surprised to see that she was even lovelier in person than she was on the silver screen. But as she greeted him, he also realized that her smile didn’t make his heart race. Not like Iris’s did, every time he saw it.

He chose not to dwell on that.

“Barry Allen, meet Patty Spivot.” Iris said brightly, coming around the desk to stand beside the woman in question. “Your future girlfriend.”


	3. Chapter 3

Barry groaned as he stumbled to the door. He’d been deep asleep when he was awakened by a loud, insistent knock that gave no indication it would go away any time soon. As he’d dragged himself out of bed, he’d glanced at the clock and realized it was nearly noon. Stifling a yawn, he threw open the door, asking, “You forget your ke-Iris!” 

He’d been expecting Cisco on the other side, so he stumbled back in surprise when he saw Iris on his doorstep, leaning on the arm she had braced against the doorframe. Her eyebrows quirked up slightly, the only indication she’d heard what he’d been about to ask. However, she didn’t speak until she’d brushed past him into his apartment. Then she said in a brusque tone, “Barry? We need to talk.”

No good conversation started with those four words, so he braced himself for whatever was coming. He turned to face her and saw her whip her head to the side to stare at the wall. “Can you – uh – can you put on some clothes, please?”

“Why?” he asked, looking down. That was the moment he realized he was dressed in nothing but a pair of sweat pants, and he could only imagine what his hair looked like, all rumpled from sleep. As mortified as he normally would have been, he grinned when he saw her blush. He couldn’t help himself. “Is something wrong?” he teased her, though he reached for a t-shirt he’d thrown on the back of a chair even as he asked.

Iris shot him a glower out of the corner of her eye. “Not at all. But someone might catch me here, and if they do, I don’t want them to think that I’m one of your…your… _groupies_.” After a second, she asked lightly, “You’re not expecting one of them now, are you?”

“No.” But Barry frowned, pondering her words as he pulled on his shirt and used his fingers to try to comb his hair into some semblance of order. “Okay, so what are you?”

“What do you mean?” She asked, turning back to him before he even had a chance to tell her he was decent. Had she been watching him out of the corner of her eye? He wanted to ask, but he wasn’t sure he could make it sound like he was just joking and deeply invested in the answer.

Instead, he explained, “You’ve said we’re going to be working together for a while. If someone catches us together, what do we say? We can’t tell them you’re my publicist if this is all supposed to be secret.”

She frowned at him. “We’ll say I’m a member of your security team.” 

Barry felt his eyebrows hitch up, and he couldn’t resist letting his gaze sweep from the floor along the five foot four inches of her to the top of her head. “Um…” 

She rolled her eyes. “My dad used to be a cop and now he runs his own private security firm. I used to help him with set-up and scheduling, that kind of thing, so it’ll check out if people question it. Trust me. Anyway, stop trying to avoid the subject.”

Feeling he’d already lost track of the conversation, he responded tentatively, “Okay. What’s the subject?”

Iris rested her hands on her hips and glared up at him. “Have you changed your mind about changing your image? Or are you just really bad at it?”

He knew exactly what she was talking about, but he feigned outrage just on principle. “What? I don’t know what you mean.”

With a huff of irritation, she started to pace. “All right. I’ll walk you through it. Over the past three weeks, while you were touring, I’ve been doing everything I can to spread rumors about your new romance with a mystery girl. I reminded you about it every night, when we talked on the phone. On no fewer than four – _four_ – occasions, I asked Harry to get you a scarf that you could take onstage with you at a concert. As I explained…to you…repeatedly…Patty likes scarves and when we went public, it would seem like you had taken a reminder of her with you on the road. But did you do it?”

“Things are crazy backstage before a concert. I guess I forgot to –”

She carried on as though he hadn’t interrupted. “No! Of course not! Not until I flew out to meet you myself! And then you ignored the scarf I brought you and stole the scarf I was wearing, instead!”

He stiffened slightly. “Well, the one you brought still had creases in it. It looked too new for anyone to believe my girlfriend had given it to me.”

Iris paused in her rant and mulled over his excuse. “All right. I can see your point, and that was a good catch. But the scarves Patty wears are always more frilly and decorative than the one you took out with you, so when the entertainment media commented about it the next day, nobody connected it to her. I guess it’s better than nothing.” 

Pointing a finger at him, she made a jab towards his chest, but he noticed she didn’t actually touch him as she chided him, “By the way, I wasn’t kidding when I said you’re going to be billed for my flight and hotel, so don’t even _think_ about arguing with me on that. Anyway, can I have my scarf back now?”

He grimaced. “Uh…sorry. I think I lost it.”

She rolled her eyes, but she didn’t press the point. As she turned away, Barry stifled a relieved sigh that she’d accepted his excuses so easily. He’d been afraid she would guess the truth.

_“Iris? What are you doing here?” he’d asked in surprise and pleasure as he caught sight of her dodging the crew backstage as she stormed up to him. His heart started to race. Had she really come all this way just to see him? If he’d known she was coming, he would have gotten her front row tickets to the show._

_“You keep saying you forgot to take this onstage, so I’m making sure you have no excuse this time,” she growled through gritted teeth, thrusting a length of wispy green silk in his direction. “We’re trying to convince people you’re in love. When we make the announcement, people are going to connect the dots and see that the two of you have been half a country apart for the past several weeks. We want them to think you kept a part of her with you, even if you had to be apart.”_

_“I see,” he’d said, staring reluctantly at her offering. His band filed around him, heading onstage, and he knew he only had seconds left. His eyes locked on her lips, he bent down until their faces were only inches apart. He wondered what she would do if he kissed her, even as he reached out and unwrapped the deep red scarf from around her neck. Her lips parted, but she didn’t say a word, and he grinned when he looked up and saw that her eyes were wide._

_“I like this one better. Wish me luck?” he asked, slinging her scarf around his neck._

_He laughed when she narrowed her eyes at him. As he turned to take the stage, however, he heard her yell after him, “You are totally going to pay for my flight, you know!”_

_Though he was normally hyped up by the sound of the audience’s roar when they greeted him, he barely registered their excited cheers when he realized that the scarf was still warm from her skin. He ducked his head and inhaled as he waved absently at the crowd. It smelled like her perfume._

_That night, he’d folded her scarf carefully and tucked it at the bottom of his travel bag, where it still remained._

Wanting to change the subject, he blurted, “Anyway, of course I’m serious about changing my image. I mean, what about that quiz show thing? I did exactly what you told me to do!”

She nodded slowly. She had set him up with an entertainment site that did a bit called Twenty Questions. Celebrities had two minutes to answer twenty rapid-fire questions on everything from their love lives to whether they slept in the buff. “You did,” she agreed, drawing out the second word reluctantly. “For the most part. But why did you say the last time you fell in love was in a coffee shop? The story was that you two met at a party.”

He shrugged. “I had to answer quickly, I couldn’t remember the story, and it was the first thing that came to mind.” And he hadn’t said he’d fallen in love. He’d clarified that he’d met someone he thought he might be falling for. It wasn’t much of a distinction, but given that Iris clearly didn’t feel the same way about him, it made him feel better.

“Well, it’s going to take some work to figure out how we can explain why nobody saw you two grab coffee together. Ever. But I think I can work with it,” she acknowledged. “But let’s get to the real reason I’m here this morning. Do you want to explain last night?” 

“What about last night?” he asked in confusion. “I went to the party you told me to attend! I saw Patty!” In fact, he’d stayed at the party for far longer than he would have liked, just because he knew it was what Iris wanted.

Iris snorted. Lifting her phone, she showed him some photos an entertainment site had posted from the night before. “Okay, then you tell me. We’re twenty-four hours away from revealing to the world that you and Patty are so desperately in love that she’s reforming your image. But absolutely nobody is talking about the two of you possibly being an item today. Care to guess why?”

He looked at the picture on the screen, but although she’d told him to guess, she didn’t give him the chance to do so. “Let’s see. Here, the two of you practically have a football field of space between the two of you.” She flipped to another picture. “In this one, you guys are standing next to each other – miraculously – but could you manage to look more bored if you tried?”

“I was tired,” he mumbled.

“Oh, and let’s not forget my personal favorite. What about this one? She’s talking to you, but are you gazing into her eyes like a man in love? No! You’re staring at the centerpiece to the table instead!”

“It was a nice centerpiece!” he defended himself weakly.

“It’s a wood carving of a pineapple and…what is that? Some bananas? How nice could it possibly have been?” she snapped.

Barry shrugged and shoved his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants. “I knew we weren’t announcing our supposed relationship yet. I wasn’t sure how much you wanted me to try to sell it.”

“Well, I didn’t expect the two of you to stand up in front of everyone and make out. But I thought that needing you to not look like you find her utterly boring went without saying.”

The problem was, he did find her boring. Nice. Maybe exactly like the kind of girl he should find enchanting. But boring. He wasn’t stupid enough to say as much, however. “It just seems weird, pretending to be in love with someone that you barely know.”

“Oh, come on. It’s not that bad,” she protested.

“Oh, yeah? Prove it. Kiss me.” As soon as the words left his lips, his mouth snapped shut. He hadn’t meant to dare her to do that, and he realized he’d better shut up before he let anything else slip.

“I – wh-what?” she stammered. With a nervous laugh, she argued, “That’s not at all the same thing.”

Barry stared at her a long moment, choosing his words carefully. Then, stepping forward, he leaned down close. “You just said it was easy to pretend to be in love with someone you barely know.”

He heard her suck in a shaky breath. “But you aren’t someone I barely know. You’re someone I’m getting to know fairly well, who for some reason goes out of his way to aggravate me. It’s not the same thing.”

Their lips were an inch apart. “Chicken,” he whispered.

Iris swayed toward him, like she might take him up on his dare, and he caught his breath. Then she stepped back quickly and shook her head. “Okay. Fine. You’ve got me. It is a little weird to pretend to be in love with her. But nobody’s expecting you to marry her. You’re just…you’re telling a story. 

“People will believe your new image is real because they want to believe it. Every time they see that look in your eye, like you could be interested - or, um, when you say you’re falling in love – they’ll want to believe it’s true. More than that; they’ll want to believe that if you love someone like Patty, you could fall in love with them. They want to believe that you’re more than the bad boy image the media has built up of you. That you could be their dream guy. Handsome. Funny. Charming. Sweet, if you can manage it. Everything they’ve ever wanted. The kind of guy who can sweep them off their feet. People love the excitement of the bad boy, but at the end of the day, they want to return home to someone who will love them forever, no matter what. That’s the image we want to sell of you.”

Barry looked away and sighed. He thought about telling her that he couldn’t concentrate on selling a love story with Patty when he was distracted by her, but there was no use. The love Iris talked about was rare – even more in an industry where people were on the road more than they were home. He’d learned early in his career that it wasn’t fair to try to have a real relationship with the life he led. It was hard to tell someone they should wait for him when they’d be crawling into a cold bed alone almost every night. 

Iris deserved more than the kind of relationship he could offer her under the circumstances. But even as he told himself as much, he couldn’t deny that he was drawn to her. He just wanted to be close to her, even if these moments with her were all he ever had. 

“All right,” he agreed softly. “I’ll try. I may not be very good at it, though.”

She let out a long breath, followed by a shaky laugh. “Well, would it help if I stick by your side for a little while? At least until we’ve got things off the ground? That way, if you have questions about how much you’re supposed to sell a moment, you can turn to me.” She bit her lower lip as soon as she finished making the offer.

He grinned widely, grateful for the chance to be with her a while longer. “Yeah,” he agreed. “It would.”

Iris stepped back and nodded briskly. “Okay, then. If that’s what you want me to do, I will. Now we just need to figure out the big reveal. We’ve got some good chatter going online, but we can’t keep the identity of your mystery girlfriend a secret forever. Patty has a few days off filming, and she said she could stay in town. I think we should take advantage of the opportunity.”

“Why is she agreeing to do this, by the way?” he asked. At her surprised look, he explained, “I know why I’m pretending to date her. I want to clean up my image. But she doesn’t have that problem. So why is she doing it?”

Iris shrugged and started scrolling through the calendar on her phone. “Well, she has the opposite problem. She’s made a career out of being the girl next door, but that means she can’t even get in the running for more dramatic roles because people think nobody will buy her in the part. You’re trying to clean up your image; she’s trying to roughen hers up a bit. Which means right now you’re perfect for each other.”

Then, without even missing a beat, she asked, “I don’t suppose you know how to dance?”

Barry frowned, thrown by the abrupt change of subject. “I don’t – It dep – why?”

“There’s a big event tomorrow night. A dinner and dancing kind of thing. Lots of stars on the scene, and that means lots of paparazzi. It’s the perfect opportunity to make your relationship public. But we can’t have a rerun of last night. You have to actually sell it. If we handle this right, I think it could be the opportunity we’ve been looking for. But none of that matters if you can’t dance – or if you’re not comfortable enough about it to do it in front of the cameras. What do you think?”

She looked so hopeful when she looked up at him, he didn’t know how to answer. He could dance, he just wasn’t sure if he could sell the story she wanted. But he couldn’t explain that to her, and in the silence that fell between them, she clearly jumped to the wrong conclusion.

“All right, don’t worry about it. We’ll practice,” she said firmly, swiping through apps on her phone until she got some music to play. “I think if you can manage just one dance tomorrow night, it’ll be enough. You can do this; I’m sure of it. Okay?”

She turned to put her phone on his table. Stepping up behind her, Barry hooked his thumb in the belt loop to her jeans and tugged, spinning her around. Pressing his hand tightly against the small of her back, he spun around in a circle, carefully maneuvering when her feet tangled in his as she tried to recover from her surprise.

“What are you –?” she gasped as he spun the two of them around again. “Barry!”

“This wasn’t what you had in mind?” He threw her a wide grin and he spun the two of them around and around, again and again, covering the area of his almost-empty living room. The hand at her back was the only place he dared touch her, but he couldn’t take his eyes off her – the smile that had stolen his breath, and the light in her eyes that was quickly stealing his heart. She braced her palms against his arms as she found her footing and spun around with him. Throwing her head back, she laughed as they spun faster and faster.

When he was dizzy enough that he was afraid he would lose his balance, he let her go, spinning her gracefully away from him. She grabbed the back of a chair and gasped for breath, and he leaned back against the wall to get his balance. A sound caught his attention, and he glanced over to see Cisco standing in the doorway, staring at the two of them. 

“Uh…did I come at a bad time?” he asked.

Barry scowled and, afraid his friend would have read the feelings on his face, headed into the bedroom without a word. Behind him, he heard Iris explain in a sheepish voice, “We were just practicing for his date tonight. I mean tomorrow night. With Patty. He has a date with Patty tomorrow night. We were practicing dancing. For it. That’s all.” 

At least she sounded as flustered as he felt, but he wondered if she’d been embarrassed to have been caught goofing around on the clock, if she was still lightheaded from spinning, or if there was any chance it could mean something more.


	4. Chapter 4

“All right. You ready for this?” Iris asked as she adjusted his tie. 

He grimaced. “To pretend that I’m desperately in love with a near-stranger? As ready as I’ll ever be, I guess.”

She smiled encouragingly at him. “Just do what we talked about, and you’ll be fine.” Pausing, she left her hands on his chest as she said in a soft, earnest voice, “I know this is strange, but I believe in you. And I’ll be right there with you the whole time. Okay?”

Blowing out a deep breath, he smiled down at her, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he studied the lines of her face. He wanted to memorize this moment – how beautiful she looked in her pale champagne dress. The way the bridge of her nose crinkled a little when she grinned up at him. The warmth of her hands against his chest. 

But he couldn’t tell her that. With that reminder, he cleared his throat and stepped back. “Thank you,” he said gravely. “Remind me what the plan is again?”

With a soft cough, Iris turned and grabbed her coat. “Okay. I’m going to head out in just a minute so I can arrive first. I went by and talked to the staff earlier today, and I’ve got everything worked out. I’ve spoken to Patty, and she had something to do first, but she promised to meet you there. Hopefully we can time this right, and you can meet up outside first so that everyone can get pictures of the two of you together. All you have to do is give her a kiss and walk with her to the table, and you should be fine.”

He nodded. “Okay. And what happens if something goes wrong?”

She pursed her lips. “Hopefully nothing will. But if you need my help at any point during dinner, all you have to do is drop your napkin on the floor and excuse yourself to the restroom. I’ve been assured I’ll be seated at a table where I can watch what’s going on. If I see your signal, I’ll excuse myself and head that way. The restrooms are down a long corridor and around the corner, so we’ll be able to touch base without anyone seeing. It’ll be fine. If we hear anyone coming, the door to the kitchens is just off to the side, and they promised we could duck in there if need be.”

“Yeah?”

Iris nodded firmly. “Yeah. I promise. That said, I should probably head out if I’m going to get there before you do. Don’t forget, if you get there first and you don’t see Patty, you can stop and answer a couple questions if you want. Just make it look natural. I’ve been assured by Patty’s PA that she’ll be there on time, so you should only have to kill a couple of minutes. If all else fails and she’s later than that, go ahead and head inside. The press will have plenty of opportunity to catch the two of you at the event itself. All right?”

He nodded, and with one more encouraging smile, Iris sailed out the door and headed to the restaurant.

* * *

Barry’s stomach clenched as his driver pulled up in front of the hotel. He didn’t want to do this, didn’t want to pretend to be in love with Patty Spivot. But he also didn’t want to let Iris down, so he didn’t have much of a choice. He had faith in her, that this would help rehabilitate his image. That was all that mattered, wasn’t it?

As he threw open the door, he scanned the crowd, looking for a glimpse of Patty’s blonde hair. He’d read up on the actress after Iris proposed this scheme, and to a good segment of the country, Patty Spivot was America’s Sweetheart. Wholesome and charming, with blonde hair and bright blue eyes, she had been described more than once as a living Barbie doll. But after falling down twice on the red carpet at award shows and sharing embarrassing personal stories during late night television interviews, she had also developed a reputation for being approachable and down-to-earth. The girl next door. Someone the public could idolize, but also someone they could imagine as their best friend.

In other words, she was the perfect person to play his romantic interest in this little scheme. If only he could muster up an ounce on enthusiasm about the prospect.

Pasting a smile on his face, he stepped out of the car and onto the red carpet. Years of practice helped him hide his wince when dozens of flashbulbs went off in his face, and he let the sea of questions from paparazzi and journalists wash over him. Acting casual, he scanned the crowd one more time, but there was still no sign of Patty. Remembering Iris’s advice in case of just such an eventuality, he smiled at one of the reporters nearby and paused to answer a few questions.

* * *

Already inside the front doors, Iris glowered down at her phone and sent yet another text. _“ETA?”_ She’d been trying to get a hold of Patty’s PA for the past half hour, but her texts had received no response. It was enough to cause a foreboding feeling in the pit of her stomach, but she didn’t know how to fix the problem until she knew what it was.

With an irritated huff, Iris glanced around the foyer again, as though there was a chance one of the most recognizable faces in the country at the moment might materialize there on the spot. The knots in her stomach loosened slightly when she felt her phone buzz in her hand, and she glanced at the screen. Word at last?

Iris felt all the oxygen leave her body when she read the text on the screen. She had finally gotten word about Patty Spivot’s whereabouts, but it was the last thing she expected. The text wasn’t from her PA; it was from Linda.

 _“911! YOU HAVE TO SEE THIS ASAP!”_ Below the text was a link to an article that had just been posted. Her stomach sinking, Iris clicked on the link. 

A second later, a picture loaded on her screen – Patty Spivot dressed in a bikini, cavorting on some beach in the Bahamas with her co-star in her current project. Her married co-star. More than one photo showed them in an intimate embrace. Butterflies ricocheting in her stomach, Iris glanced at the timestamp on the story. It was from less than fifteen minutes ago, and according to the article, the pictures had been taken earlier that day. She had apparently chosen another path to tarnish up her image a little.

“Shit, shit, _shit_!” she muttered, her hands trembling as she hurried to text Barry. She was going to have to fix this, to figure out how to regroup and salvage her current assignment. But first thing first, she had to stop Barry from making an announcement that evening that would only make the situation worse.

 _“Barry, it’s me. Whatever happens, DO NOT SAY ANYTHING ABOUT PATTY. I will explain later. Come meet me inside.”_ She hit send, and then raced to the doorway. She knew Barry was already on-site, so she might already be too late. Even if she wasn’t, with the chaos of the red carpet, she knew the odds were slim that he would even notice he had a message until he made it inside.

Bursting through the front doors, Iris only took a second to locate Barry in the crowd. He was talking to reporters, just as she’d suggested, but this was one time that she wished he had ignored her instructions. She thought about jumping up and down and waving to get his attention, but that would only draw more attention to herself. So, instead, she pasted a smile on her face and walked casually towards him, hoping she could discreetly pull him aside to explain.

As she approached, she heard the question she’d been dreading the most. “So, Barry, everyone’s been speculating for weeks about this mystery girl you’ve fallen for. Any chance you’ll give us her name?”

Iris picked up the pace, and she saw the moment his gaze drifted towards her and he noticed her there. His reaction to the question appeared so genuine, Iris would have believed it herself if she didn’t know better. A slight brush staining his cheeks, he ducked his head sheepishly. “Well, I guess I can’t keep it a secret forever. I’m dating –” Her eyes wide, Iris shook her head in a small, quick gesture, silently pleading with him not to finish what he was about to say. Smoothly, without even the slightest hesitation to indicate he had been about to say anything else, he finished, “Iris. Iris West.”

Her sigh of relief caught in her throat when she heard her name, and her wide-eyed look of panic changed to horrified shock when he stepped forward and wrapped his arm around her waist. “Hello, Princess. I was just looking for you,” he said in a warm voice that caused the butterflies in her stomach to go into hyperdrive – this time, for an entirely different reason. Bending down to brush a kiss against her cheek, he murmured in a voice just loud enough to be overheard, “Miss me?”

* * *

The next half hour passed in a whirlwind. The moment Barry announced her as his girlfriend and bent to kiss her cheek, dozens of flashbulbs went off in her face. Though she was normally calm and capable in stressful situations, she didn’t know what to do this time. She was used to being behind the scenes. Away from the camera’s eye. She needed to pull Barry aside and strategize what they should do next, but his announcement had ensured that she wouldn’t get a moment alone with him.

It had also ensured she wouldn’t get a moment’s peace, to get her thoughts in order and decide what to do next. Barry’s announcement may have solved one problem – temporarily – but it had caused at least a dozen more. Not least of which was what she was going to tell her boss when the entertainment sites ran with this little story in the morning.

 _We’ll explain it was a joke,_ she thought desperately as she sank down into her chair at dinner. _The papers are always speculating about who Barry’s next girlfriend will be. He was just playing with them, since his girlfriend couldn’t make it tonight. Everyone will believe it. Right?_

But even as she formulated the idea, she knew it wouldn’t work. If only he would behave with her as he had with Patty at the party. Instead, all through dinner, Barry sold the part entirely too well. He was kind and attentive. He teased conversation out of her when blind panic would have kept her mute. He laughed at her jokes, complimented her dress, and in every other sense, he was the picture of the perfect date. 

When she finally got the chance to lean in and explain in an undertone what had happened to Patty, he took advantage of her closeness to sell the lie even more, brushing a lock of hair off her bare shoulder with one gentle fingertip. Barry stared at her lips when she talked, appearing every bit like he had nothing on his mind except kissing her.

At this point if they tried to tell the world that it had all been a practical joke, nobody would believe it. Worse, they’d likely believe that she and Barry were having an affair – emotional if not physical – and his attempt to clean up his image with some other actress would backfire. He’d come off even more of a villain than he ever had before, and Iris would be along for the ride. 

It was only after desert – a heated pot of chocolate and bowl of fresh strawberries – was served that Iris felt they had lost enough attention to have the conversation they desperately needed to have. “This is a bad idea,” Iris murmured, staring at Barry’s hands as he slowly stirred the bowl of melting chocolate so that it wouldn’t burn. 

“If you have any better ideas, I’d love to hear them,” he remarked mildly, reaching for a strawberry. He didn’t seem particularly perturbed by the hitch in their plans. In fact, she would have thought he was pleased by recent developments, except that there was no reason for him to be so.

“You’ve been teasing my secret relationship for weeks, and even you said we couldn’t keep that up forever. Everyone was expecting to see me out with my date tonight. I could tell you didn’t want me to mention Patty, but we didn’t have a backup plan in place. If I said my girlfriend couldn’t make it tonight, there would be speculation of trouble in my supposed relationship, undoing all your good work so far.” He dipped the strawberry in the melted chocolate, rolling it around as it cooled. “We were out of options, so I improvised.” 

With a half-smile, he held the strawberry out for her. “Here. Eat this.”

She didn’t move. “But there must be something else we can do. The whole point was that you were supposed to be dating someone wholesome. Famous. Able to clean up your image. Someone like Patty.”

He was unruffled by the reminder. “Well, Patty isn’t here. According to you, she’s on a beach with her married co-star instead, doing what she decided was best for her image. You may not be famous, but wholesome? Have you seen you? You’re so wholesome, I’m pretty sure birds help you dress in the morning. Now come on, Princess. The cameras are waiting, and our friends are going to think something’s wrong if you don’t take this bite soon.”

Her eyes flickered to his and then to the strawberry. She held no illusions about what would happen if she ate it. It would be the final nail in her coffin. The paparazzi would take a photo of him feeding her and run with it. Every entertainment news outlet would have it on their front page before she’d even finished her bite. By this time tomorrow, the entire world would know her as Barry Allen’s mystery girlfriend. And until she finished rehabilitating his image, she would have to play the part.

Licking her lips, she took a deep breath and met his eyes. “If we’re going to do this, you have to do what I say. Everything I say. This is going to complicate matters, but you hired me to clean up your image, so that’s what I’m going to do. I can only do it if you listen to me.” 

“Of course. Everything you say.” He moved the strawberry even closer to her mouth, his eyebrows raised in silent challenge.

Her eyes locked on his, Iris leaned forward as though about to eat the strawberry. Then, at the last moment, she grabbed it from his hand and sat back, a blush staining her cheeks as she lifted it to her mouth and took a bite. “Like you said,” she pointed out, ducking her head with a small embarrassed smile for the benefit of their audience. “I’m wholesome. Remember?”

Before she realized what he was doing, Barry grabbed her hand and pulled her palm to his lips for a kiss before licking a smear of chocolate off the fleshy part of her thumb. His eyes were silent challenge and wicked promise when they met hers. She felt his smile against her palm as he murmured, “Yeah. But don’t forget…I’m not.”


	5. Chapter 5

“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” Iris said on a breathless laugh as Barry twirled her around. They were surrounded by other couples on the dance floor, but he only had eyes for her as he pulled her in close. “This wasn’t the plan at all.”

“But do you mind?” he asked, stroking his fingertips along the curve of her spine. His smile was wide – and just a little bit wicked.

She shook her head. “No,” she whispered. “I don’t mind.”

Bowing his head, he brushed a soft kiss along the curve of her neck, the warm caress of his breath making her shiver. She felt his tongue caress the curve of her ear, and she had to stifle a moan as she pressed her body against his. Hooking one leg over his hip, she felt his hand slide along its curve before he lifted her hard against him. She could feel his erection through their clothes, and she rocked against him, smiling when she heard him catch his breath.

“I’ve wanted to do this since the day we met,” he breathed, trailing a line of kisses along her jaw. His free hand cupped her cheek, his thumb tracing a small pattern against her skin. Then he sucked her lower lip between his teeth, swallowing her gasp with his kiss.

“Don’t stop,” she moaned, tracing the line of his lower lip with her tongue. “God, Barry...”

Iris was awoken from her dream by the sound of her phone ringing. She groaned as the memory of Barry’s hands against her skin slipped away. Then blinked the sleep out of her eyes, looked at her phone screen, and groaned again. She’d know who it would be even before she saw the name, but that didn’t keep her from wincing. With a sigh, she pushed the last threads of her dream aside – and chose not to think too hard about the direction it had been taking. Or its subject. Hitting the button to answer, she injected false cheer into her voice. “Mason! I can explain!”

“I certainly hope so,” he replied, not trying to hide his irritation. “Because I expected to find pictures of Barry Allen and Patty Spivot all over the web this morning. So imagine my surprise when I turned on the computer to find photos of you instead.”

Fighting a grimace, Iris explained everything that had happened the night before, ending with, “He went with the first name that came to mind. Mine. If I backed out after that, it would have done more harm to his image than going along with it.”

“Which is why, if you want to work in this business very long, you should know to always have a backup plan,” he chided her. “You should never have let yourself be put in that position.”

She sighed. “I understand. But I –”

“I’m not sure you do understand, Iris. I have a company to run and an image to protect. I’m in the business of managing other people’s images. Not setting up a dating service to the stars.”

“That’s unfair!” she protested.

“Yes. It is. But I have to live in reality, same as you. What happens when it becomes known that you work for my agency? There’s a reason we always stay in the background – why we drive the story but we never become the story. What happens when you take on your next client? What are they going to think about the headlines you’re making today?”

“I’m sure we can explain,” she offered weakly.

Mason sighed. “Iris, perception is everything. You should know that; we’re in the _business_ of perception. Which reminds me. You’re going to have a lot of attention on you for a while. I think you should stay away from the office until it blows over.”

His tone caused a knot to form in her stomach. “Does this mean you’re firing me?”

Silence a little too long echoed down the phone line. Finally, he responded, “In this business, a mistake isn’t a mistake if it turns out to be a hit.”

Sucking her lower lip between her teeth, Iris nodded, even though she knew he couldn’t see her. “I-I understand,” she murmured softly. She’d received his message loud and clear. If posing as Barry’s girlfriend successfully rehabilitated Barry’s image, she’d keep her job. If it failed, on the other hand…

“Good. I’ll see you when this business with Barry Allen ends. One way or another.”

With a groan, Iris hung up the phone threw back the covers. There was no way she’d get back to sleep now.

* * *

Iris sucked in a deep breath and had to brace herself before she turned on the computer that morning. It was time to check what people were saying about her work – a task she wouldn’t have minded yesterday but was less eager to do today. She wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to know what people were saying about Barry’s new relationship.

But it was part of her job, so she booted up the computer and started her search. The coverage was more or less what she’d expected. The photos were splashed across site after site, complete with the speculation she’d anticipated. Everyone wanted to know who Barry Allen’s new girlfriend was, but not everyone was convinced the relationship would last. Iris had anticipated that, as well.

Sucking in a deep breath, she turned to social media to check the buzz the stories were creating. She read the first few comments with relief.

_“Who is she? She’s gorgeous!”_

_“She’s the girl he met in the coffee shop? Why couldn’t it have been me??? I drink coffee!!!! I want to be her sooooo bad. #Lucky #Jealous”_

_“Look at the way he’s looking at her. #Goals”_

_“She’s beautiful, but I’m not sure about the dress. I’d kill for those legs, though.”_

_“IS HE LICKING CHOCOLATE OFF HER RIGHT THERE? OH MY GOD, THAT IS SO HOT! HOW IS SHE NOT DEAD RIGHT NOW???”_

But it didn’t take long to discover that not everyone was enthusiastic about the news.

_“He’s dating HER? He could date anyone he wants, and he chooses a nobody? I’m not buying it.”_

_“I don’t think they’re dating. They just don’t look right together. I don’t know why. They just look like friends to me.”_

_“She looks like of like a bitch. She’s probably just after his money.”_

_“Fake. Why would he date her? She’s probably some new singer the studio’s trying to push. I’m betting we see a record drop by this “up and comer” in the next three months. Tops.”_

“You wouldn’t say that if you’d ever heard me sing,” Iris muttered, closing the window. She paused just long enough to refill her coffee, then she grabbed her notebook on her way back to her desk. Since circumstances had changed, she was going to have to rethink her plan. On the plus side, that meant she didn’t need to worry about reworking Patty’s image anymore. She could focus solely on her assignment with Barry.

But if her job was on the line, she also wasn’t sure how much she wanted to – or could – draw things out. It was going to be a balancing act that required perfect timing. This pseudo relationship had to last long enough to sell Barry’s transformation, but it had to end before her credibility with potential future clients was shot.

With that in mind, it seemed like a good idea to dig deeper into his previous relationships – or his suspected relationships, at least. If she saw what had driven the speculation in the past, maybe she could use it to her advantage now.

* * *

A few hours later, Iris straightened in her chair, stretching the kinks out of her neck before she stood to answer the knock at the door. It almost wasn’t a surprise to find Barry on the other side. “Hey. You shouldn’t look surprised to see me,” he greeted her with a grin. “You asked me to come by today, after all.”

“Yeah, but I’m still not used to you listening to me,” she mumbled, following him into her living room. “And the fact you are immediately makes me suspicious, of course.”

Barry seemed unfazed by her skepticism. “You told me I should be attentive to my fake girlfriend. This is me, being attentive. Want to go for a walk?” She arched her eyebrows in question, prompting him to explain, “I hear it’s something couples do. And we are a couple, right? Well, kind of a couple, at least.”

Iris looked away, pondering her options. As much as she would have liked to find a way to do her job without furthering this PR relationship, she’d realized last night it simply wasn’t going to happen. Barry’s suggestion was smart. They’d gotten their names out there; plenty of sites had already started to publish speculation about them. It was good strategy to follow up the buzz by getting out and about today, being seen doing things that typical couples would do. “Fair enough,” she agreed. “Let me grab my shoes.”

As they headed outside, Barry grabbed her hand and said, “I also thought we should talk schedules in the next couple of days. I’m going to be doing some recording this week, but we’ll need to plan our second fake date.”

“Of course,” she agreed, watching him out of the corner of her eye.

“Still suspicious of my motives?” he asked with a grin.

She nodded, but she didn’t bother to hide her smile as she joked, “Of course. Getting you to wear Patty’s scarf was like pulling teeth, but now you’re playing the attentive boyfriend. I can’t help but wonder if you’re up to something.”

Barry sighed. His expression grave, he admitted, “I feel bad. About last night. This wasn’t your plan, and this charade is going to put you in the public eye. That kind of media scrutiny and speculation…I know what that’s like. I know how hard it can be. I wasn’t thinking when I said your name, and I never meant to do this to you.”

Iris grimaced. If only he knew that she had bigger problems than media speculation. Her entire career was on the line. But he couldn’t have known that. “It’s all right,” she reassured him. “It could be worse.”

“Yeah? How.”

She laughed. “I could be dating someone. For real, I mean. Talk about awkward.”

He was silent for a moment, and it gave her a chance to enjoy the weight of his hand in hers. Finally, though, he said, “Oh. Well. Um. Are you?”

Seeing the attention they were drawing by bystanders on the street, she scooted closer to Barry and threw him what she hoped would be interpreted as a loving look. They had meandered to a park in her neighborhood, and she led him to a small duck pond in the center. As they paused by the water, she answered, “No. I’m not dating anyone.”

“So it won’t be a problem if I kiss you?” She gasped at his question and turned to face him. He shrugged. “I just thought…we have an audience. We’re supposed to be dating. I know you’re wanting to get people talking about us. But if you’re not ready, or if it makes you uncomfortable… I mean, I guess we’ll need to kiss eventually if we want people to believe we’re dating. But it doesn’t have to be today if you –”

Iris felt her cheeks go hot as she remembered the kiss they’d shared in her dream. His hands upon her skin, the memory haunting her even after she’d awoken. Not that she’d ever tell him about it, of course, but now she was about to kiss him for real. Was she ready for that?

“It’s okay,” she whispered, drawing him closer to her. “I’m ready.” And with her hands fisted in his shirt, she pulled him in for their first kiss.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

“Spill,” Linda didn’t waste any time before demanding when she came over to hang out later that day. Barry had left her at the door not long before, claiming to be late to an appointment with his manager. “I want all the details about your date.” Then, after a short pause, she added, “Actually, given that picture I saw on Twitter an hour ago, I suppose I should say dates.”

Shrugging, Iris took a seat on the couch next to her and demurred, “There really isn’t much to say. They were…you know…dates.” At her friend’s skeptical look, she shrugged again and said in a defensive tone, “What? It’s not even real! I doubt you’ll find the details that interesting. What do you want me to say?”

Linda rolled her eyes. “I want all the sexy details! The romance! The butterflies! I don’t care if it’s fake. My last date was six months ago, and the guy brought his ventriloquist dummy along. Give me something! Anything!”

“Wait…a ventriloquist dummy?” She had to take a moment to ponder that. “I guess that’s a little weird, but it’s not too –”

“He asked for a booster seat so ‘Walter’ could join us at dinner.”

“Uh, well –”

“And ordered it food off the kid’s menu,” she added pointedly.

With a grimace, Iris ventured, “Okay, that’s a little –”

Linda glared, crossing her arms over her chest. “As the waitress was delivering appetizers, he told me that, when I was ready to become Walter’s step-mother, I could grow out my hair so that he could make it into a wig. That way, Walter could wear it and carry a piece of both of us. Always.”

It took several seconds for Iris to adjust to that bombshell. Finally, she asked tentatively, “Um, so what part of him did he, um –”

“I don’t know!” she practically shrieked. “I was too busy racing to the bathroom so I could climb out the window and make my escape before he went all _Silence of the Lambs_ on me! Like any woman with half a brain! The point is, I am absolutely dying to hear the details of your glamorous date with your Grammy winning, rock god, made-it-on-the-Sexiest-Man-Alive-list-three-years-in-a-row, fake boyfriend! Throw me a bone, here!”

Iris laughed and reached for her coffee to hide her discomfort with the topic. “Last night was…nice, I guess. I mean, it was a little surreal. I’m still not sure how to date someone without actually dating someone, you know?”

“You didn’t think it would be that hard for him to do it,” Linda pointed out.

She shrugged. “I know. But he wants to be an actor, and he signed up to live his life in the public eye. I didn’t. I’m still not entirely sure how to handle it, if you want to be honest. Hopefully, I won’t have to do it that long.” There had been moments over the last couple of days that it would have been all too easy for her to forget that none of it was real. The last thing she needed was to fall in love with Barry Allen like countless women had done before, only to have her heart broken in the end. But she didn’t know how to explain that without sounding pathetic, so she kept those thoughts to herself.

“Well, that’s a bit of a shame, isn’t it? I mean, you did have fun last night at least, right?”

“Oh, sure. Who wouldn’t have fun being publicly romanced with chocolate covered strawberries, knowing that everything you do is being caught on camera and will be splashed across the front page the next day? I probably should have agreed when he asked me to dance, but I was too nervous.”

Linda pursed her lips thoughtfully. “So what’s he like? In person, I mean.”

Biting her lip, she repressed the urge to shrug again. “I’m not quite sure. I’m still trying to figure him out, if you want to be honest.” Feeling more comfortable with the prospect of discussing his personality than the details of their dates and her feelings about them, she curled her legs under her and turned towards her friend. “He’s just hard to pin down. When I first met him, he came across as arrogant and aloof. He wasn’t very good at hiding the fact he didn’t particularly want to work with me. And getting him to do anything I asked was like pulling teeth, at first. I had to actually fly out to one of his concerts and practically physically force him to take a scarf onstage when I was trying to lay the groundwork that he was dating Patty.”

“But he finally did it, right? So I guess he can’t be completely impossible to work with.”

Iris rolled her eyes, but she begrudgingly admitted, “Sort of. I guess. I mean, he did end up taking mine onstage because the one I brought looked too new. But I guess he did end up doing it. And he listened to me a little too much last night, given that I wouldn’t be in this position if he’d just blown off my directions for one more evening.” At her friend’s confused expression, she explained, “I got mad at him when he was caught on camera acting like Patty was the most boring person in the world, so I told him to be more attentive to his dates. If he’d only done the same to me last night, we could have played it off as a joke on his part and come up with a different supposed girlfriend for him today.” She sighed. “Fat chance of me being able to do that now, with him acting as flirtatious as he did. Though I suppose I should be grateful his behavior meant nobody linked him and Patty together romantically. That would have been a disaster.”

Linda made a soft, thoughtful hum as she threw her friend a contemplative stare. “What?” Iris asked after a moment when she didn’t speak.

“Nothing. Just…isn’t it interesting to you at all that Barry was so different with you? That he took your scarf out with him on stage? That he’s actually acting like he’s devoted to you, when he didn’t with Patty? Has it occurred to you that maybe he wants it to be real?”

Iris snorted. “Oh, please. Trust me, it’s not like that at all. Barry isn’t interested in me. We’re not even friends, really. This is a strictly professional relationship. I’m not even his type! Plus, getting him to kiss me was a bit like pulling teeth.”

“Really? The photo I saw didn’t look like he was reluctant to kiss you.”

She lifted one shoulder in a dismissive gesture. “Looks can be deceiving, and he knows how to make it look good for the camera. I know you’re desperate for a little romance, but you’re barking up the wrong tree. I’m not interested in Barry, and he’s not interested in me.”

* * *

Later that evening, after Linda had gone home, Iris gave her computer a thoughtful look before booting it up. She was firmly convinced she’d told the truth earlier. That Linda thought Barry was actually interested in her was ludicrous, given that their entire relationship existed because of a contractual agreement between them. Still, she wanted to see what people were saying about their kiss. If even Linda wanted to be fooled, it was a good sign that Iris’s plan was paying off.

It didn’t take long for her to find the picture – or people’s response to it. Iris could guess the exact moment it was taken.

_Though Iris leaned in to the kiss, Barry’s embrace was brief before he pulled back slightly. The touch of his hands when he raised them to cup her face was a gentle caress, the pressure of his lips against hers so soft, she almost could have believed she imagined it. After a moment, he broke off the kiss, though he kept his forehead pressed to hers._

_“Everything okay?” she whispered, bringing her hands up to cup his elbows. She supposed she’d expected him to devour her like he had in her dream, and it was somewhat jarring to remember that, in reality, he probably wasn’t terribly interested in doing so. He was pretending to be interested in her every bit as she was pretending to be interested in him._

_“It’s fine,” he murmured. “It’s just weird, kissing someone you know is just pretending to want to be there. I mean, when both of you are just acting. I’m not sure I know how to do it yet. I don’t want to cross a line.”_

_She squeezed his arms gently. “You aren’t crossing a line,” she reassured him. “But I’m glad to know this is a little weird for you, too. It would probably be easier if we were friends, but we aren’t even really that. I guess we’re just going to have to make sure to be honest with each other. I mean, we’re in this together, right? It’ll probably take a little bit of time before we’re comfortable with the charade, but we’ll get there. And in the meantime, I know that a certain level of physicality is required for this relationship, so I’ll let you know if you’re getting close to any lines. Okay?”_

_“Sure,” he agreed, pulling away. His expression was blank, his smile strained as he turned. “Anyway, I guess we prolonged that moment long enough. I’m sure somebody got a picture of it, and that’s the point, right?”_

_“Uh, right,” she agreed, trying to read his mood as she hurried to keep up with him, linking her hand in his. He tensed for a moment, but he didn’t pull away. “You sure everything is okay?”_

_“Absolutely,” he agreed in a level voice. “Just thinking about our next move. You know, I have an interview next week. They’re probably going to want to ask me about my new fake relationship, so we should probably meet before then and get our stories straight.” From his tone, she imagined the thought bored him, but he dutifully threw her a smile as they passed by a group of joggers._

_His tone was so at odds with his expression, it took her a moment to mentally catch up. “Ah, yeah. Of course. When can you meet? I can draft some sample questions so you’re all prepped and ready to go.”_

_He shrugged. “I’m not sure. Give my manager a call; he can put something on the calendar.”_

_Iris frowned. “I thought you said you wanted to go over our schedules today? Earlier, I mean.”_

_Barry ducked his head, grimacing. “Oh, right. I just noticed the time, and I realized I’m running late to another appointment. Sorry about that.” He gave her hand a quick squeeze. “I’ll make sure to let Harry know it’s important. We’ll find time to meet ahead of time. I promise.”_

So much for Linda’s theory that Barry secretly had a thing for her, she mused as she considered the picture of their kiss. The camera caught the moment just before he pulled away, the expression on his face one of such longing that Iris thought that either Barry was a better actor than she’d given him credit for, or the moment captured was deceptive in its emotion.

She scrolled the comments.

_“Oh my god, look at that! He loves her so much!”_

_“I’m just looking at this kiss, and I’m pretty sure it just got me pregnant. I don’t know how she’s still standing.”_

_“ASKJAAKAHAJKJKJKJKJLJAJ”_

_“Find a guy that kisses you the way Barry’s kissing his girlfriend.”_

_“Loooooookkkkkkk…I don’t know who she is, but I would die for these two. #Perfection”_

_“SHE IS SO TINY NEXT TO HIM! I’m weak!”_

_“I wish it were me!!! But he looks so happy with her, I really hope they get married one day.”_

A couple of comments were potentially troubling in their implication:

_“His kiss is hotttttt, but is she even kissing him back?”_

_“He looks more into her than she is into him. I hope I’m wrong! How could she not realize she’s the luckiest woman in the world that she gets to be with him?!?”_

With a sigh, Iris shut down her computer and leaned back in her chair. Barry had certainly sold the fiction of their relationship. She was going to have to make sure she did the same. How she was going to do it without buying into the fiction herself was going to be the bigger problem.

* * *

“So,” Cisco said as Barry collapsed onto the couch next to him. “This thing with Iris. Want to talk about it?”

He sighed. “Not really. It’s fake. You know that. Just…trying to rehabilitate my image. It’s no big deal.”

His friend snorted. “Really? Because it seems to me like it’s a very big deal. I’ve seen you date other girls, remember? You never looked at them like you were looking at Iris when I interrupted your dance. Not to mention the look you were giving her in the pictures I saw.”

“Yeah, right. It’s acting, remember?”

“Dude, I don’t know how to tell you this, but you’re not that good an actor,” Cisco retorted with a grin, nudging Barry’s arm playfully when his friend would have taken offense.

Barry leaned against the back of the couch, tilting his head back to look at the ceiling. “Well, I guess I must be, because that’s what I’m doing. Anyway, you know as well as I do how impossible a real relationship would be, with as often as I’m on the road. So I guess it’s good that it’s all pretend.”

Cisco frowned, falling silent for a moment. Then, in a soft voice, he remarked, “You know, just because it’s been that way doesn’t mean it always has to be. I know you. If you found the right girl, you’d make it work.”

He shrugged, turning his head so his friend couldn’t read the expression on his face; they knew each other too well. “Maybe. But there’s no point in wondering what I’d do to be with Iris because we aren’t dating. We’re not even friends, according to her. She only kissed me because I told her people were probably watching. Once this assignment ends, she’ll probably be out of my life – and at this rate, she’s probably looking forward to it.” 

When his friend didn’t immediately respond, he glanced over at him. “You can stop looking at me like that, you know. It’s okay. It’s just a few kisses, and then we’ll both move on with our lives. It’s not like I’m in love with her or anything. I guess that means I’m a better actor than you thought.”

Cisco’s look of concern lingered for a moment, and then he grinned and the tension between them was broken. “I remember that time you tried to play a wizard and somehow caught your beard on fire in the middle of the production. Trust me; it wouldn’t take much.”

Barry’s affronted look was belied by a quick bark of laughter as he replied, “Dude, that was in the eighth grade! You’re going to have to let that go eventually!”

He laughed. “Don’t bet on it.”


	7. Chapter 7

Barry was in a bad mood as he stopped playing and stepped back from the microphone with a curse. “This isn’t working,” he grumbled.

“You need to –” Harry’s voice carried into the recording studio through the overhead speaker.

“I know what I need to do,” he snapped as he put his guitar aside. “It isn’t working. I need a break.”

A short silence followed his churlish remark, and then Harry agreed, “All right. Let’s take a break. I’m going to go grab something to eat. Ah, Barry, you have a guest.” 

Barry turned just in time to see Iris walk through the door into the live room of the recording studio. He frowned; he hadn’t realized she was there. “I didn’t want to distract you,” she explained, shoving her hands into her jacket pockets. When he didn’t respond, she shrugged. “You haven’t been returning my calls.”

Barry turned away with a scowl. “I don’t let people listen to my music before it’s done.” He knew he was being an ass. His foul mood wasn’t likely to endear him upon her. But his new song wasn’t coming along as well as he’d hoped. It was a love song, but Harry kept telling him he was singing the words, not feeling them. Unfortunately, though Barry kept trying, he couldn’t seem to get through whatever mental block was holding him back.

It probably didn’t help that he couldn’t get Iris’s words – that they weren’t even friends – out of his mind. He was pretending to be in a relationship with a woman who didn’t even see him as a friend, and he was supposed to sing like a man who was happy in love? How was he supposed to do that?

“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize.”

He shrugged. “Harry should have,” he grumbled.

Iris sighed. “Barry, is something wrong?”

“Well, the song –” 

“Not with the song. With you and me.” When he shot a look at her over his shoulder, she unflinchingly met his eyes. “I’ve been trying to get a hold of you for two days. You haven’t returned my calls. And your attitude today is hardly welcoming. Is everything okay? Are you regretting getting into all this?”

He sighed, running one hand through his hair in frustration. “You know, I wish you’d stop asking me that.”

Unperturbed, she lifted her eyebrows at him. “I wish you’d stop giving me a reason to.”

Stifling a groan, he tilted his head back and closed his eyes. “Look, I’m sorry. I know I’m in a bad mood. My album is running late, the song isn’t going well, and it’s not the kind of thing I normally share with people I’m not close to. I’m still trying to figure out how to negotiate our pretend relationship. We aren’t really dating, and like you said, we aren’t really friends either. So I don’t know where that leaves us on a day like today.”

“Do you want to be friends?” she asked softly.

“Do you?” he shot back in frustration. Bypassing the stool standing nearby, Barry lowered himself to the floor, stretching his legs out in front of him. 

Silence stretched between them as Iris crossed the room and sat on the floor next to him. “I don’t know,” she finally admitted.

Inexplicably, that made him laugh, though the sound was a harsh bark, devoid of humor. “Thanks. That makes me feel better.”

Iris shifted, lifting one shoulder in a shrug. “The thing is, I just can’t figure you out. Who’s the real Barry Allen? The shameless playboy the tabloids love to report about? The arrogant rock star? The romantic heartthrob you want the world to believe you to be?”

“Maybe I’m all of them,” he suggested, lying back. He hadn’t slept well the night before, and he was exhausted. Plus, he didn’t want to see her disappointment in him with every word that left his mouth.

“Or maybe you’re none of them,” she offered gently. 

He shifted, throwing his arm across his eyes. For the first time in their conversation, his voice was soft and just a little bit sad as he replied, “I’m not sure I even know anymore. I may not be used to being in a pretend relationship, but I’ve lived in the spotlight for so long, I’m not sure I remember what my life was before all that. Knowing that everything I do is going to be caught on camera and dissected for people who think they know everything about me because they’ve read the stories online. I am who the world wants me to be. Does anything else really matter?”

She didn’t say anything in response to his statement. He had sounded so self-pitying, he wouldn’t have blamed her if she’d decided to just get up and leave. Instead, he startled, jumping slightly when he felt the soft brush of lips against his own. Acting on instinct, Barry lifted the arm flung across his eyes and wrapped his palm around the back of her neck, pulling her in closer. Her lips parted above his, and he drew her down on top of him, her hair tickling his cheek as he deepened the kiss.

Her body was warm where she pressed against him, and he wanted to stay in that moment forever. In another second, however, she placed her palm on her chest and lifted herself off him. They stared at each other in silence for a long moment, and then Barry asked in a voice barely above a whisper, “What was that for?”

Irish was blushing. Her smile was sheepish, and she wouldn’t meet his eyes as she explained, “Everyone should know what it’s like to be kissed without having to worry about how it’s going to play for the cameras.” Still not looking at him, she got to her feet and moved to the door. “I’ll let you get back to work. I really didn’t mean to intrude.”

“No, it’s – it’s okay,” he replied. “I was just – I’m frustrated with the song. I don’t mind if you watch. Really.” He hated for people to hear his work before it was ready, but now that Iris was about to leave, he found he didn’t want her to go. 

She smiled down at him, finally meeting his eyes. “Maybe next time. I really just came back to remind you to return my calls.” He laughed when she playfully nudged him with her foot. She turned to leave, but at the door, she paused and looked at him over her shoulder. “When you find the real Barry Allen, let me know. I think I would like to be his friend.”

Barry was still lying on the floor when he heard Harry return to the control booth. Grinning, he jumped to his feet. “All right, let’s try this again,” he called out as he grabbed for his guitar. With his lips still warmed from her kiss and the memory of her body against his, he started to sing.

* * *

Later that evening, Iris was about to shut down her computer when Patty’s name in a headline caught her eye. With a frown, she pulled up the article in question. A quick perusal, and she saw that Patty’s attempts to recreate her image had backfired. Though she’d wanted to tarnish her image a little, her publicist had apparently overshot the mark. 

The moment the pictures of her and her costar on a beach had hit the Internet, people had started to speculate how long their affair had been going on. What had begun as a salacious bit of gossip and innuendo blew up when old photos were leaked of Patty and the actor’s wife hanging out together. Rumors flew that she hadn’t just had an affair with a costar; she’d betrayed a friend. In the last twenty-four hours, “insiders” had stepped forward to claim that this wasn’t the first time Patty had engaged in an illicit affair – or done so at the expense of a friend. Her image wasn’t just being slightly tarnished. It was being eviscerated. 

After the tough spot they’d left Iris and Barry in, she knew she could ignore the predicament Patty and her team were in. Nobody would blame her for leaving them to fix the mess they’d made. But even as she shut down her browser, she could hear Mason’s voice in her head. _“Never burn a bridge you don’t have to in this business. You don’t know if you’ll ever need to cross it again in the future.”_ Their industry was built on favors and IOUs, and perhaps it wouldn’t be the worst decision to obtain her first marker now.

Grabbing her phone, she pondered the situation and the list of clients currently being handled by Bridge Communications. It might take some finesse, but she could think of a couple of ways they could help rehabilitate Patty’s image while also giving their own clients a needed boost in PR. If anyone could do it, it was Mason, she decided as she texted Patty’s PA. _“Saw the news. Will come out with a statement in support in upcoming interview. MB may have client able to help. Let us know.”_

She finished shutting everything down and was just crawling into bed when she heard her phone ping with a new message. Assuming it was a response from the PA, she grabbed her phone and was surprised to see Barry’s name on the screen. 

_“Sorry about my attitude today. I was having a rough day, and I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. I’d send you flowers if I wasn’t worried you’d throw them at me.”_

Iris laughed. Smiling, she texted back, _“Why would I? The flowers didn’t do anything to deserve that.”_

She saw the three ellipses that indicated he was typing a response and grinned even wider when it came in. _“But I did? Ouch. I probably deserved that.”_ She was in the middle of typing her response when his next text came in. _“Let me make it up to you. My parents invited us over to their house for a couple of days. They want to meet you.”_

Her smile fell, and she stared at her phone as she tried to figure out how to respond. Why would they want to meet her, unless they thought her relationship with Barry was real? She knew fooling the whole world that they were in love was rather the point, but it somehow seemed particularly duplicitous – and just a little bit cruel – to fool their parents. Iris hadn’t had a chance to talk to her dad in depth about the pseudo-relationship since he was working out of town at the moment, but she had at least given him a quick call with a head’s up that it was a sham.

Before she could figure out how to respond, however, the next text came in. _“They know the truth about us, so you don’t have to worry. But they want to meet you.”_

Pursing her lips, Iris considered the offer. She was finding it increasingly difficult not to think of Barry as just another client. Her dreams about him were definitely getting to be distracting. She doubted getting to know his parents would help matters. On the other hand, nothing would sell the image of a man in love to the press like taking his girlfriend home to meet the family. From what she could tell of his previous relationships, he’d never done so before. _“All right. Thank them for their offer and tell them I’d love to.”_ It was with only the tiniest twinge of foreboding that she hit send before putting her phone aside.

* * *

Iris sighed as she rolled over and threw her clock on the nightstand a fulsome glare. It was just after midnight, and she couldn’t sleep. Every time she tried to drift off, her mind drifted to memories of the kiss she’d shared with Barry earlier that day. She had acted on impulse when she’d lowered her mouth to his. It was supposed to be just a quick peck, but it had turned into something more.

Her mind conjured up images of what could have happened if this relationship of theirs wasn’t just for show. What would he have done if she’d given in to temptation and straddled him where he laid stretched out on the ground? If she’d pressed her lips against his neck, feeling his pulse flutter under her tongue. If she’d let her hands slip under the hem of his shirt to press against the warm skin of his stomach. Would he be ticklish? 

Since all efforts to shove such illicit thoughts out of her mind were failing, she closed her eyes and let her imaginations wander. She remembered the feeling of his hand on the small of her back, when he’d spun her around the room in their ridiculous sham of a dance. What would she have done if he’d run that hand up her side, tracing the line of her ribcage? If he’d cupped her breast in his palm, stroking the soft skin of her nipple with his fingertip? 

They had only shared two kisses, neither of them real. But she could imagine the trail his lips would take along the curve of her neck. She moaned when she imagined the feel of his tongue against her breast as he sucked her nipple between his teeth. 

What would he feel like pressed against her? Sliding inside her? She had watched clips of him at concerts. She had seen those talented fingers as they slid up and down the neck of the guitar as he lost himself in a song. What would they feel like if he slid them inside her, a promise of what was to follow?

Iris moaned again, her back arching in bed, as she pictured what it would be like to make love to Barry Allen. Which was why it took a moment for the knock on the front door to register. With a frustrated groan, she got out of bed and made her way to the door. As she was reaching for the light switch, she heard Barry’s voice through the door.

“Iris? It’s me. I hope I’m not – What am I even doing? You’re probably asleep.”

Her hand stilled on its way to the switch. Worried about what Barry would see on her face if she turned on the light, she left it off and hoped the shadows would hide her wide eyes and flushed cheeks, signs of her lingering arousal, as she opened the door. “Barry? Is everything okay? What’s up?”

“I just – I wanted to – god, Iris –” he mumbled. The words were barely out of his mouth when his arms wrapped around her and he pulled her close. His mouth was hot against hers, his tongue thrusting into her mouth, and she fisted her hands in his shirt as she pulled him against her. She gasped against his mouth when his hands slid down her sides, his thumbs briefly slipping under the hem of her nightshirt to stroke the soft, sensitive skin at her waist. Then his hands continued their path. “Barry,” she moaned when he cupped her ass and lifted her easily. Iris wrapped her arms around his neck, crushing her mouth against his, and felt his fingers dug into her thighs. “Barry, what –?” she breathed, opening herself to him as she curled her legs around his hips.

“I can’t stop thinking about you,” he groaned, nipping her bare shoulder with his teeth. “I know I shouldn’t. But I can’t stop. Iris please –”

“Barry,” she gasped. Their kiss became rough, desperate, as she fisted one hand in his hair and dragged his mouth back to hers.

“Tell me to go and I’ll go,” he growled as he turned, pressing her against the open door. She stifled a strained chuckle when she realized they hadn’t even made it into the room. Then her laugh dissolved into a frustrated moan deep in her throat when she felt his erection through their clothes as he thrust against her. When she ran one palm down his chest to his belt buckle, he breathed out a curse and grabbed her wrist, lifting her hand to pin it against the door above her head. “Tell me to leave. Tell me you don’t want this as much as I do.”

In the dim moonlight filtering through the open door she was pressed against, Iris caught her breath and met Barry’s eyes. He stilled against her, his eyes silently pleading. She should tell him to leave. She should know better than anyone the dangers of confusing perception and reality. This was all a sham – a relationship concocted for the benefit of the press. It wasn’t real. Eventually it would end; they would both move on. For the good of her career if nothing else, this was one line she shouldn’t cross. 

But she didn’t want him to stop. She didn’t want him to go. She wasn’t expecting love or promises of devotion. She didn’t ask for forever. But was it so wrong of her to ask for just one night?

“Don’t go –” she began and then gasped when his hand slid between her thighs, stroking her through the thin fabric of her underwear. Pulling her lower lip between her teeth, she bit down hard to stifle her moan and kept her gaze locked on his when he slid his thumb underneath the line of her panties to press hard against her clit. “I don’t want you to go. Stay with me.”


	8. Chapter 8

It was foolish. Reckless. Almost certainly a mistake. But Iris didn’t care. She gasped when Barry crushed her against him, his lips capturing hers once more as his tongue thrust into her mouth. She moaned when he slid a finger inside her, continuing his steady strokes. With what little presence of mind she had left, she panted, “In-inside.”

Barry made a soft sound deep in his throat and turned, carrying her easily in his arms as he kicked the door shut. She pushed against him, regaining her feet as she fumbled with the lock. Then she nodded, her arms still around him, when he breathed, “Bedroom?” 

Their movements were clumsy, awkward, unable to keep their hands off each other as they stumbled away from the door. They only made it a few steps before they went down, tripping over each other’s feet. Iris landed on top of Barry, too impatient to suggest they try again.

With desperate hands, they tore at each other’s clothing. Iris heard more than one seam pop as she ripped his shirt over his head and tossed it aside. She let out a breathless laugh when her own shirt got tangled and caught, and she didn’t even care when she heard something tear when he tore it off her.

“Please,” she breathed, fumbling with the fastening of his pants. She wasn’t looking for tenderness any more than she expected forever. Too impatient to have him inside her to bother with removing the rest of their clothes, Iris reached into his pants and pulled out his cock, stroking his length as he shoved the line of her panties aside and thrust three fingers inside her. 

“So impatient, Princess,” he chided her when she squirmed against him, throwing her head back with a loud moan when he swirled his thumb around her clit, making her groan with his teasing.

Iris shook her head and let out a loud sigh as she lowered herself onto him, taeking him deep inside her. “I’m not your Princess,” she retorted as she rocked against him.

Barry’s laugh was strained when he wrapped his hand behind her neck and yanked her down for another kiss. “Wanna bet?”

She would have argued the point, but then he moved against her, thrusting his hips into hers as his hand drifted from her neck down to her chest. He cupped her breast, thumbing her nipple, his other hand moving between her legs to stroke her clit as he continued to thrust inside her.

Her fingers digging into his shoulders, she threw her head back and bucked against him. She didn’t want his tenderness. She didn’t want to fall into the trap of pretending this was anything more than hormones and lust. She would give him her body, she would take his, and that would be all. Or so she promised herself. “Harder,” she growled against his mouth. “Fuck me harder.”

Pulling away from his kiss she closed her eyes and gave in to the feeling of his cock thrusting inside her, his fingers teasing her clit. “Come for me, Princess.” she heard him say, and she would have protested the nickname again, but she was too lost in his touch to care. 

“Harder!” she demanded. Giving in to her demands, he grabbed her, his fingers digging hard into her hips. He guided her pace, thrusting into her again and again hard enough to make her gasp with pleasure.

“Barry, yes,” she breathed as she rode him. “Yes!” Her shout was exultant as she came, her entire body shuddering with pleasure. She felt him stiffen beneath her as he poured himself into her. This time, she gave in, collapsing against him when he yanked her down to him for a kiss.

A few minutes later, Iris felt Barry’s chuckle rumble through his chest and raised her head to throw him a curious look. “This wasn’t… _exactly_ what I had planned when I came over tonight,” he explained.

Lifting her eyebrows, she asked lightly, “Oh? And what did you have planned?”

His smile was a little sheepish when he explained, “I was going to apologize for my attitude today.”

She threw him a self-satisfied grin. “In that case…apology accepted.” She was about to tease him further when she realized they were still lying in the middle of her living room floor. “Ah…maybe we should move to the bedroom?”

He nodded, getting to his feet and sweeping her into his arms. “I can walk, you know,” she pointed out, even as she linked her arms around his neck.

“After what happened the last time we tried it, this seemed safer.” She stifled her laugh against his chest as he carried her into the bedroom, placing her gently on the bed. She lay still, bathed in the moonlight spilling through the nearby window, as Barry hooked his thumbs under the line of her panties and pulled them down her legs. “God, you’re beautiful,” he breathed.

Pausing only long enough to throw off the rest of his clothing, Barry climbed into bed and pulled her back against him. Propping his head on one arm, he ducked to press a kiss against the curve of her neck as his free hand drifted down her body, cupping her breast. 

Iris sucked in a deep breath and pressed back against him, smiling when she felt him grow hard against her. She tried to turn in his arms, but he grabbed her hip and held her in place. “Not this time.”

He teased her with his fingers, running them down her body like he was trying to memorize her. She felt him smile against her neck at her every shudder, her every gasp. He ran his tongue against the curve of her ear as he gently lifted one leg, hooking it over his. 

She froze, grabbing his wrist before he could lift his hand off her leg. “Wait,” she blurted, inexplicably scared. She could handle another good, hard fuck. She understood the rules. But his tenderness frightened her in ways she didn’t know how to put into words. She didn’t want to fall into the same trap so many others reportedly had before. She didn’t want to believe it meant something more.

“It’s okay,” he whispered into her ear. “I won’t hurt you.”

She felt her heart skip a beat, scared for a second that he’d read her mind. But when his hand stroked her hip gently, she relaxed against him, realizing he had misinterpreted her fear.

“I’m not afraid,” she lied, moaning when he slid inside her from behind.

“That’s it, baby. That’s it,” he breathed as she tensed, his gentle strokes and steady thrusts bringing her closer to orgasm. Her breath was a sob when she came, shuddering in his arms. 

As Iris drifted off to sleep, her body spent, she felt the moment he lifted his weight off the mattress. When she awoke the next morning, she was unsurprised (and, in truth, a little relieved) to find him gone.

* * *

Barry yawned as he climbed out of bed the next morning. He had slept well, if not long, his dreams filled with memories of the night before. When he stumbled out of the bedroom, he found Harry in his kitchen, waiting for him. He grunted a greeting as he accepted the cup of coffee offered to him, not bothering to even attempt to speak until he’d drunk half of it.

“You’re here early,” he finally managed.

“Well, we were supposed to meet this morning to talk about the new album,” Harry pointed out. 

“Oh. Right.” Barry had forgotten. “You hear the new demo I sent over?”

Harry nodded and took a seat nearby. “I did. It has potential, but I don’t think it’s quite there yet, and we’re running out of time. This album should have been finished a month ago.”

With a huff, he grumbled into his coffee, “Tell me something I don’t know.”

“Look, I know you didn’t like the way the album was originally going. And I agree these new songs are better. You’ve put more passion in them. But are you sure there’s nothing you can salvage?”

“No. They’re done. It’s the same old stuff I’ve done, over and over. This album…it’s going to be something new.”

Harry sighed. “All right. Well, we’re still down several songs. I don’t suppose you have any brilliant i-” Before he could continue, a knock on the door interrupted them. With a sigh, he got to his feet. “I’ll get it.”

Barry was taking another sip of coffee when Iris walked in, Harry trailing behind. “Hey!” she greeted him brightly. “I hope I didn’t come at a bad time. We need to talk about your interview tomorrow.”

He watched her silently, marveling that she could appear so calm when his heart was pounding. If he didn’t know any better, he’d think he’d dreamt the night before. Oblivious, Harry rushed to fill the silence between them. “You’ll have to excuse Barry. He just woke up, and he’s not usually very coherent until he gets a little more coffee in him.”

“Yeah. I had a late night,” he mumbled into his coffee cup, gratified to see Iris blush slightly and look away. So she wasn’t as calm as she appeared. Hiding his smile behind his mug, he lied, “Working on the album.”

“Oh? And how’s it going?” she asked politely.

He shrugged. “I’ll let you know.”

When he didn’t say more, she rolled her eyes at him and dropped the subject. “All right, well, as I said, we need to talk about the interview tomorrow. I’ve asked Linda to go with you, to make sure everything goes smoothly.”

“Wait, you’re not going?” Barry blurted. “Why not?”

It was Harry who answered. “Because this is the kind of thing people would expect you to take a publicist to. Not a girlfriend. If Iris goes with you, it might raise questions.”

“Exactly,” she replied. “But you don’t have to worry. Linda’s done this kind of thing a million times. She knows what she’s doing.” When he simply scowled into his coffee in response, she smiled brightly and asked, “Should we go over some questions?”

* * *

“So, Barry. I understand you’re working on a new album. What can you tell us about it?” the interviewer (whose name he had already forgotten) asked with a wide smile as she leaned towards him in a conspiratorial fashion.

Leaning back in his chair, Barry tried to appear personable and approachable as he replied, “Yeah, it’s coming along really well. My team has been trying out some new things with this one, and I think the fans are really going to like it. It’s definitely the most personal album I’ve ever done. There’s a lot of me in this one so, yeah, I just hope the fans embrace the experience.” 

Even as the words left his mouth, he wanted to roll his eyes. “Embrace the experience”? What did that even mean? It was these kinds of non-answer answers that made him hate doing interviews.

“I don’t suppose you’d be willing to treat us to a preview of one of the songs?” she asked.

He forced a chuckle. “I’m afraid not, but stay tuned. Maybe I’ll come back when the album is about to drop and give you a preview.”

She smiled. “I’ll hold you to that. Now, as you know, there’s been a lot of talk in the press lately about your love life…”

He shot Linda a quick glance as the interviewer trailed off. Standing off-camera, she gave him an encouraging nod, and he laughed and joked, “Has there? I hadn’t noticed.”

The interviewer dutifully laughed in response. “Well, everyone has been talking about some very steamy pictures that were taken lately with you and your girlfriend, Rose –”

“Iris,” he corrected her, recognizing it was a trap even as he stepped into it. By forcing him to correct her, she’d put him in a position where he couldn’t pretend not to know what she was talking about. It also put him in a slightly more uncomfortable position if he had intended to avoid talking about her at all. 

“Oh, right. I apologize. Iris. But I was wondering how you would respond to Patty’s recent allegations regarding your relationship.”

He had spoken with Iris the day before about how to respond to questions about their relationship – soundbites that would provide just enough information to not seem evasive while appearing determined to respect their privacy. He wasn’t prepared for questions about Patty, and so he frowned, shaking his head slightly. “My – wait, what?”

The interviewer’s smile widened as though she smelled blood and was prepared to pounce. “Patty Spivot? I got the chance to speak with her yesterday about her recent controversy. The interview will be aired tonight, but I wanted to get your thoughts on her comments regarding your relationship. She said she regretted that so many people were hurt by her actions and specifically named you. According to her, the two of you were dating, and she ran because she was scared of how serious things were growing between the two of you.” 

Barry just stared at her in silence, unable to believe what he was hearing. He didn’t even begin to know how to respond.

Undeterred by his silence, the interviewer prompted, “She implied that your relationship with Iris is just for show, and you’re using her as a consolation prize because you were heartbroken by what happened with her. I was wondering if you have a response to that?”

Barry let out a surprised laugh, unable to help himself. Off-camera, he saw Linda gesture in an attempt to get his attention, but he ignored her. “How would I respond to that?” he demanded, his voice wavering between anger and irritation. “I’d say that it’s true Patty and I went on a couple of dates before I started dating Iris. Even after I met her, I was reluctant to drag her into the speculation and innuendo that seems to be inevitable in this industry. Patty is a nice person, but we didn’t click. And anybody who has ever met Iris would know she’s anything but a consolation prize.”

Standing, Barry ripped off his microphone. “And this interview is over,” he said curtly as he threw the mic onto the chair and stormed past the staff, who all watched him with wide eyes. “Let’s go,” he told Linda as he headed for the door.

“Ah, Barry –” she attempted, but he shook his head. 

“No. We’re done here,” he snapped as he stormed out the exit. 

He didn’t speak again until they were safely in the car, heading back to his apartment. Then, feeling her eyes on him, he sighed and glanced her way. “What? Are you going to try to tell me that I was supposed to sit there and listen to her talk about Iris that way?”

Linda shrugged. “No. But your response could have been handled with a little more…finesse,” she replied. He pulled a face and shrugged in return. Finesse had never been his primary concern. After a long moment, Linda asked, “So. How long have you been in love with Iris?”

That got his attention. With a soft choking sound, Barry protested, “Wait, what? Because I – look, anybody would have reacted – I was just acting!”

She met his eyes unflinchingly as she replied in a firm voice, “Really? Because I don’t think that was acting.”

“What do you know?” he grumbled, turning to look out the window again.

He heard a soft sound next to him, and then Linda said, “Okay, it’s none of my business. Just…be careful, okay?”

“Why? You think I’m going to hurt her?”

“I think she doesn’t think she would let you,” she replied. “She knew every detail about every relationship you’ve supposedly had even before the two of you met. I guarantee you’re the last person she thinks she’d let into her heart. But I also think that means one of you is kidding yourself, and somebody is going to get hurt.” 

Barry appreciated her honesty, even if he was stung by her words. “So you’re just looking out for me?” he asked with a reluctant smile. 

She chuckled. “Eh. To be honest, if one of you is going to be hurt, I’d prefer it was you. She is my friend, after all. But that’s not exactly ideal.”

Settling back against his seat, Barry lapsed into silence as he thought about her words. Because while he didn’t want to believe he was the last person in the world Iris would ever let herself love, he was afraid it was probably true. But where did that leave him, when he was afraid he might already be losing his heart to her?

* * *

It was after one, and Barry was still at his recording studio, working on his newest song. He was testing out a new chord when he heard the door open. Looking up, part of him acknowledged his lack of surprise when he saw Iris walk through the door. She was wearing a long trenchcoat, her hands thrust into her pockets. 

“Hey,” she greeted him with a soft smile. “Is this a bad time?”

His hand stilling on his guitar, Barry shook his head. “No,” he admitted.

“I thought we should talk about the interview, so I went by your place. When I didn’t find you there, I figured I might find you here.”

“So you want to talk about the interview?” he asked, putting his guitar aside. Then, straightening, he shifted his weight from one foot to the other and ran a hand through his hair self-consciously.

She shook her head. “No. But it sounded like a reasonable excuse. You’re not expecting anyone are you?” He shook his head. Smiling, she walked forward to look at the sheet music he had been working on. “ _Alone Next to You_? Sounds interesting. This is the song you’re having trouble with?”

He shrugged. “Harry says I’m not hitting the right tone yet.”

Iris was silent as she skimmed the lyrics. _“Never lonelier than when I’m next to you / Never more alone than when I’m by your side?”_

He grimaced. “The lyrics are a work in progress.”

“I think I know the problem. This is a song of longing. It’s about wanting something you can’t have.” Shooting him a look out of the corner of her eye, he watched as the corners of her mouth curved up in a small smile. “And I’m willing to bet there’s nothing you’ve ever really wanted that you couldn’t have before.”

His bark of laughter was completely without mirth. “You might be surprised.”

“Well, maybe I can help,” she murmured, shrugging out of her trenchcoat. Barry almost choked when he saw that she was wearing a skimpy black negligée with a pair of thong panties underneath. Bending, she scooped up his guitar and handed it to him. “Play it for me.”

“What?” he asked dumbly. He had grown hard at the very sight of her. She was so breathtaking that, in that moment, he couldn’t have played a single chord. She simply put her hands on her hips and waited, until he finally managed to pull his attention back to his music. “Oh. Uh, right.”

With a force of effort, he forced his attention back on his sheet music. It took a minute to remember how to play the guitar, and then he strummed the first chord.

As soon as he started to play, Iris shifted around him and lowered herself onto her knees. His breath left him in a hiss when she unzipped his pants and pulled out his erection. Wrapping her hand around his shaft, she started to stroke him with slow, firm strokes.

“Well? You aren’t playing,” she pointed out, looking up at him with a devilish smile.

Barry hadn’t even realized he’d stopped. “I’m not? Oh, um –” Trying to pull his attention from what she was doing with her hand, he forced his attention back on his music. Sweat beaded on his brow, a muscle jumping in his jaw as he clenched his teeth. Breathing hard, he started to play again. _“Never lonelier when I stand…um…when I’m alone with…”_

“Those aren’t the lyrics,” Iris murmured. He shot her a glare, but her eyes were all innocence as she leaned forward to run her tongue down his shaft. 

_“Never more alone when I’m by your_ – Christ, Iris, like I care about the fucking song,” Barry growled as she took him into her mouth. He moaned when she swept her tongue around the tip of his erection, his hips thrusting towards her. His guitar dropped to the ground when she cupped his balls in her hand, caressing him gently as she increased her suction on his shaft.

Closing his eyes, Barry threw his head back and gave in to the feel of her lips and tongue. Every time he came close to coming, she slowed her ministrations, taking him just to the brink, then bringing him back down again.

“Iris, god…Iris…I need…I need…” But he couldn’t even find the words to tell her what he needed.

Raising her head, she grinned up at him. Her smile was teasing as she murmured, “That’s longing.”

With a growl, Barry bent and lifted her easily. Spinning, he carried her to the stool resting against the wall. Propping her on its edge, he tore off her panties and dropped to his knees. Iris’s laugh broke off when he spread her legs, pressing a warm kiss against her inner thigh.

Her hands speared into his hair, clutching him tightly as he trailed kisses up her thigh. Bracing her hips in his palms, he speared his tongue between her folds, teasing her as she had teased him. His tongue swirled around her clit, and he smiled when her hands formed fists in his hair, her breath coming out in tortured gasps.

“Barry…Barry please,” she moaned when he pressed his tongue against her nub before spearing it in and out in an imitation of what he wanted to do with his cock. “Oh, god, Barry.” Her words were a tortured sob as she tightened her thighs around him.

His desire to keep torturing her warred with his need to be inside her. Muttering a curse, he rose to his feet and grabbed her hips. Lifting her easily, he thrust into her in one smooth stroke. The stool rocked back against the wall as he pounded into her again and again, Iris’s hands clutching at his shirt and hair.

“Barry,” she gasped in his ear. “Don’t stop…” Before she could say anything else, he wrapped his hand around her neck and dragged her mouth to his. He didn’t want to hear her tell him to fuck her. He didn’t want the reminder that this was all it was to her.

He swallowed her scream as she shuddered against him, her walls shuddering around him as she climaxed. With a loud groan, he continued pounding into her as he came, letting his body collapse into her when he was spent.

“Jesus, Barry. What was that?” she asked on a breathless laugh, her touch now gentle as she ran her hand along the back of his neck.

“I think that was longing,” he replied, smiling when his answer made her laugh. 

They remained curled in each other’s arms as they tried to catch their breath. This, Barry realized, was his favorite part. After they had driven away their desperation and need, when Iris would relax against him like she belonged in his arms. When her touch would become gentle and, just for a moment, he could pretend it meant something more.

When he could pretend that she wasn’t the woman in his song.

It never lasted long enough. It certainly didn’t this time, as she gasped, her head snapping off his shoulder a second later. “Oh my god. Tell me you weren’t recording!” 

Barry laughed and shook his head, but she stood and pulled out of his arms before he could duck his head to capture her lips in a kiss. And once again, even though she was right next to him, his heart ached as he felt her slipping out of his reach.


	9. Chapter 9

Iris was deliciously sore when she woke up the next morning, and she smiled as she stretched, trying to work out the kinks in her muscles. She could still taste Barry on her lips, smell him on her skin, and she let her eyes drift closed as she savored the memory. She imagined it was his hand drifting across her stomach, down her hip, sliding between her thighs.

She kept telling herself that she would get him out of her system soon. Just one more good, hard fuck, and maybe she’d get over this strange addiction she seemed to have formed for him. One more time. One more night.

What would he do if she called him now and told him she needed him? If she whispered that she was wet and ready and had awoken with the need to have him inside her? Would he come to her, help her drive away the need that filled her?

Or would he think she was being clingy, wanting more from him than he wanted to give? Like so many other sad, sorry women he’d left in his wake as he was carried away by the brightly lit chaos that was show business. Would he feel sorry for her? Apologize for her mistake in holding on to a promise he’d never intended to make?

The thought was like a bucket of cold water, driving away the memory of his touch. Her eyes opened in more ways than one, she climbed out of bed and turned her attention to preparing for the day ahead. 

Calling him to her would be breaking the rules, she reminded herself as she stepped into the shower. She couldn’t afford to forget that.

A couple hours later, she was sitting at her desk, trying to focus on work, when her phone chirped with an incoming message. _“I saw Allen’s interview this morning. Good job. Keep this up, and we may get you back to work sooner than we thought.”_

Frowning at Mason’s message, Iris did a quick search for the interview in question. Linda had called her afterwards to update her on the situation, but it hadn’t sounded like that big of a deal. If it got Mason’s attention, however, Iris thought she had better check it out. 

As she clicked on the link and waited for it to load, she heard a knock on the door and jogged to answer it. Instead of Barry standing on the other side, however, she found Cisco. He smiled as he handed her a small package, explaining, “Barry said you were coming by the studio today and asked me to give this to you. I was in the area, so I thought I’d drop it off and save you a trip.”

“Oh,” she replied, a slight frown marring her brow. “He asked me to stop by to go over our next steps.”

Cisco’s laugh was wry and apologetic. “Yeah, I’m not surprised. The thing is, he’s in meetings all day, working on his upcoming tour. He always thinks he’ll get done a lot faster than he does, and it always takes all day. And that puts him in a bad mood, so he goes home to crash for a while.”

Iris laughed. “Somehow that doesn’t surprise me. Sounds like something he’d do. Thanks for the warning.”

“No problem,” Cisco replied with a cheery smile as he turned away. “If you come by tomorrow, he’ll be back to normal.”

“Isn’t that still grouchy?” she called after him.

He laughed and retorted over his shoulder, “Well, sure, but at least it’s the endearing kind of grouchy! You get used to it!”

With a chuckle and a shake of her head, Iris closed the door behind him and tore into the package, wondering what Barry had left for her. Her heart fell into her stomach when the key slid out of the envelope and into her palm.

Moving slowly, as if it was a vicious animal that might bite, Iris walked to her kitchen table and placed the key in the center of its empty surface. Leaning forward, she rested her chin on the back of her hand and stared at it, wondering what it might mean. It looked like a house key. For his place? Why was he giving her a key to his place? Because he had misread her intentions and felt obligated? Or because he wanted to provide his fuck buddy easy access?

She honestly didn’t know which would be worse.

Before she could decide on a course of action, her phone chirped again. When she saw Barry’s name on the screen, she bit her lip and pulled open the message. _“Meeting’s running behind. Not sure when I’ll get out. Come by about 10 tonight instead? If I’m not home by then, kill me.”_

Tilting her head to the side, Iris pondered his message, wondering if it had some sort of hidden meaning. Uncertain how to respond, she chose her words carefully as she typed out her message. _“That’s okay. Cisco said you’re always later at these than you think you’re going to be, so I was prepared.”_

Ellipses appeared at the bottom of the screen, and then he replied, _“Traitor. He’s not supposed to tell on me like that!”_ Then, a moment later, _“One of these days, they’ll believe me when I say I don’t care what kind of towels they stock backstage, and these meetings will get down to a manageable level.”_

That didn’t seem to have any kind of hidden meaning, so she smiled and sent back, _“Don’t you know? It is VERY IMPORTANT that you choose the right towels. Your ENTIRE CAREER depends on it!”_

_“Honey, I honestly couldn’t care less about the towels. Unless you promise I’m going to find you backstage in a towel and nothing else. Then I’d reconsider.”_

Her breath caught in her throat, uncertain whether she should be turned on or alarmed by his message. After a minute, she rolled her eyes at herself and muttered, “Don’t be a coward, West. Ask him.” Her fingers trembling a little, she typed out her message. _“Oh, Cisco dropped off a key. ??”_ So she was too scared to actually type out the question. “Sue me,” she muttered.

She could see those damn ellipses again and held her breath until the next text came through. _“Oh, yeah. I was going to give you a head’s up about that, but it slipped my mind. Everyone on my team has a key to my place. My schedule can be unpredictable, and I don’t want you to have to wait in the car if I don’t get home on time. Or if I’ve worked too late the night before and oversleep. If we have an appointment and I don’t answer the door when you knock, you can let yourself in and send me a text that you’re waiting if I’m not there.”_

Her breath left her in a whoosh, and she had to laugh at her foolishness. Of course. Remembering how Cisco had let himself in to Barry’s place during their dance and how she’d found Harry there the other day, it made perfect sense. She felt so silly about how completely she’d mentally missed the mark that she felt comfortable teasing him in response. _“So I should only use the key during regular business hours?”_

She smiled as she waited for his response and then chuckled when she saw his return text. _“Unless you want to prove your point about the towel…”_

Shaking her head, she slipped the phone in her pocket and turned back to her work. As she sat at her computer, her gaze drifted to her folder labeled _Relationships_. It contained all the information she’d compiled about Barry’s prior romances, which she used as research when planning her current strategy. Pulling it out of the stack of papers on her desk, she put it on top of the pile. It wouldn’t hurt to have it nearby for a while, a silent reminder of why she shouldn’t let herself read more into whatever this thing was between the two of them.

* * *

Iris knocked on Barry’s door that evening, shifting her weight back and forth with indecision when he didn’t answer. When she tried again and received a similar lack of response, she pulled the key out of her pocket with shaking fingers. Even though she knew it was a byproduct of his rather unpredictable lifestyle, it still felt strange to let herself into his place. Like she belonged there.

So it was with an excess of caution that she stuck her head into the front door and called out, “Hello? Barry? You here?” Receiving no response yet again, she sighed and let herself inside, closing the door behind her. 

She was headed to the couch to wait for his return when curiosity overcame her. It was possibly her best chance to get more insight into the mind of Barry Allen, without him catching on to her curiosity. So instead of sitting down, she meandered through the living room, pausing to look at the photographs on the walls. There were a couple photos of Barry playing on stage; from his appearance, she thought they were likely taken early in his career. Most of the photos, however, were with his family. Iris paused and stared at the faces of the people she assumed to be his parents. With one fingertip, she traced the lines left by a lifetime of laughter in their faces and decided they looked kind. Perhaps she would enjoy meeting them, after all.

Then she moved on, letting her hand trail absently along the top of his television. After a moment’s pause, she headed towards the nearby hallway. She didn’t want to cross the line with her snooping, but surely he would understand if she used the restroom in his absence?

The problem was, she wasn’t sure which room led to the bathroom. Opening the first door she came across, she a coat closet. Behind the next door, she found an empty guest room. Iris closed the door firmly without giving in to temptation to investigate. At the end of the hall, she found two closed doors. She chose one at random and had opened it just a crack when she realized it led to the master bedroom.

Feeling guilty enough already, Iris started to close the door when she heard a sound inside. Curious, she paused and glanced into the darkened room. It was then that she realized Barry was stretched out on top of the covers, snoring gently.

Without stopping to second-guess her actions, Iris crept into the room and approached the bed. Though his body lay in shadow, the light from the hallway fell across his bed, illuminating his face.

There was something so gentle and pure about his face while he was sleeping. This wasn’t the face of a serial heartbreaker or one of the sexiest men alive. He looked peaceful and untroubled, a small smile lifting the corners of his mouth as he turned his face away from the light.

Unable to resist temptation, Iris reached out and trailed one gentle fingertip along the curve of his cheek. He didn’t move, so she bent and brushed a soft kiss against his forehead. She didn’t want to disturb him when he was sleeping so soundly, but she knew she would hold on to this memory, long after their peculiar arrangement had come to an end.

As she straightened to go, however, she felt a hand wrap around her wrist, holding her tight. She watched his eyes flutter open as his mouth curved into a lazy grin. “Hey, you,” he murmured, his voice roughened from sleep. “I wanted to stay up and wait for you.”

“I can tell,” she responded lightly, her voice amused. “It’s okay. We can talk tomorrow.”

“Mmmm…no, it’s okay. I can get up,” he argued, even as he dragged her into bed. 

Iris laughed as he pulled her down next to him and tucked his cheek against the curve of her neck. “Well, you’re off to a great start!”

Barry’s breath was warm against her neck, making her shiver when he whispered something that sounded like, “My Iris.”

Her heart skipping a beat, Iris sucked in a sharp breath. “What?”

“Mmm?” Three seconds passed, and she wondered if he’d drifted off again when he mumbled, “I said I promise.” 

She relaxed in his arms again. “I should go,” she suggested, though not entirely without regret.

He sighed, pressing a kiss on the sensitive skin beneath her ear. “God, you smell good,” he groaned. Then, in a whisper, he demanded, “You know, you could stay here with me tonight.”

Turning in his arms, she brushed back the lock of hair that had fallen across his forehead. She knew he was too sleepy to think clearly, so she tried not to take his words to heart as she dropped her gaze to his chest and responded in a lightly teasing tone, “And break one of the unspoken rules that define our relationship? I don’t dare.”

When she pulled her gaze back to his, she found him watching her silently. As though unable to keep still, he ran his hand along her side to her hip. He pulled her closer and then bowed his head to kiss the curve of her neck again. His lips trailed down her chest to the swell of her breasts over her shirt. Massaging her ass with one hand, he sucked slightly on the soft skin of her breast, just hard enough to leave a mark.

At her soft moan, Barry raised up and moved over her, pinning her down with the weight of his body. Meeting her eyes, he murmured, “Would that be so bad? To hell with the rules. Stay with me.”

Glancing away, Iris bit back a sigh. He spoke like someone with nothing to lose. But, then, she knew she was the only one of them who was risking everything. Gathering the threads of her composure, she forced a laugh and attempted a teasing tone when she asked, “And how many girls have you said that to?” 

That got his attention, and he froze, his eyes wide as he looked down on her. She watched as one corner of his mouth curved up in an arrogant smirk. “Not that many. You’re the first woman I’ve ever met who will fuck me but won’t sleep with me,” he pointed out in a dry tone.

Iris struggled to keep her tone light as she chose her words carefully. “Well, I already said I’m not one of your groupies. At least this way, when I wake up in the morning alone, it’s all part of the plan. I don’t have to worry about you –” She broke off, pressing her lips together to stop the flow of words from leaving her mouth when she realized she’d been about to say, breaking my heart. Realizing she had to finish the sentence somehow, she concluded lamely, “um, worrying that I’m going to misinterpret things. Fucking each other is less messy than sleeping together, don’t you think?”

Barry’s eyes slid to the window, and she felt the movement of his body as he inhaled deeply. When he met her eyes again, his eyes were guarded, hiding his thoughts from her view. “Baby, who said anything about sleeping?” he drawled.

It was, in a sense, confirmation of what she had assumed. His suggestion that she stay had been thoughtless. The implication behind his words had been unintentionally implied by a man who promised nothing just as he risked nothing. _It did not matter,_ she promised herself. _He could not hurt her. He could not hurt her._

But part of her wondered if she should be concerned at how easily the thought he might break her heart. Was it already more at risk than she wanted to believe? Perhaps it was already too late, and she should leave now, before her heart really was at risk. But then Barry shifted, pressing against her, and all thought of leaving fled from her mind. Putting her misgivings aside, she lifted her hand to scrape her nails gently down his chest.

One more time. One more night.

Barry relaxed into her touch, but she could swear she saw a flash of sadness in his eyes. In a blink, it was gone, making her wonder if she’d imagined it. Bowing his head, he grabbed the front panel of her blouse in his teeth and tugged, slowly popping open the buttons. This was all it would ever be, she knew, but she swore to herself that this was all she wanted anyway.

To avoid acknowledging the sudden sorrow that weighed her down at the thought, Iris poured herself into him, into this moment together. When he reached for her, she arched to meet him. Their lips met, and she inhaled his breath, imagining she could hold it deep inside her. Like a talisman to ward off future pain. 

Barry deftly helped her out of her clothes before quickly removing his own. And then he was leaning over her again. He explored her body with his hands, his lips, his tongue. He brought her to one shuddering climax after another, until it was all she could do to mindlessly chant his name.

But still he didn’t come inside her.

Frustrated and aching, wanting to feel him thrust into her, Iris pushed him off her and stumbled to her feet. “Water,” she mumbled. When she caught sight of the clock on the nightstand, she saw it was after midnight. “I need water.”

Shameless in her nudity, she left the bedroom and turned towards the bathroom – the only room she had not discovered during her earlier investigation. Throwing open the door, Iris flicked on the light before bending over the sink, drinking in mouthfuls of cold water as she plotted her revenge.

When she straightened, however, Barry was standing behind her. She smiled at his reflection in the mirror, his hair tousled from her fingers running through it a hundred times over the past hour. “Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?” he asked her as their eyes met in the reflection.

Iris felt herself blush. It was an inexplicable reaction, considering that he had spent the last two hours exploring every inch of her body. “You might have mentioned it.” She reached for the light switch, but he grabbed her wrist. 

“No,” he demanded, bringing her hand to her stomach. “I want to watch. I want you to watch.” With his hand covering hers, he nudged her head to the side so he could kiss her earlobe. After scraping it gently between his teeth, he whispered, “Show me how you touch yourself when I’m not there.”

Iris froze. Even with all the things they had done to each other, there still seemed to be something particularly wicked about his suggestion. He wanted to watch her as she touched herself? But his body was so warm and solid behind hers, and she closed her eyes, remembering the fantasy she’d had of him just that morning. Sucking in a deep breath, she started to move her hands slowly, caressing the soft skin of her stomach.

His hands moved with hers, covering hers completely. Everywhere she went to touch, he touched first. There was something particularly erotic about the realization, and she lifted her hand to her breasts, to stroke and tease her nipples.

“Open your eyes,” he breathed, and when she did, she saw his gaze was locked on her face in the reflection. “That’s it, baby.”

It had been her fantasy, and now Iris gave in to the reality of it. She watched his quick intake of breath as he helped her tease herself, felt him stiffen behind her when she moaned. Then she grabbed his other hand and brought it to her waist, sliding her own fingers beneath his. Slowly, tantalizing him and heightening her own anticipation, she slid her hand to the apex of her thighs.

Barry breathed a curse, pulling her back against him hard enough to momentarily hold her hands in place. Then she felt the slight tremor in his fingers as he relaxed the pressure. “Go on,” he groaned, pressing his erection into the small of her back. “Show me what you do next.”

Her eyes locked on his face, she teased the outer folds of her lips, drawing out the torture for them both as she murmured, “I imagine it’s you when I do this, you know. Your hands. Your lips. Your tongue.” At her words, he exhaled suddenly, and she took advantage of his surprise as she slid one finger inside her folds to stroke her clit. With a low moan, she bucked against his hand, pressing against him as his fingers, longer than hers, slid inside her. 

“I’ll never be able to touch myself without thinking of this. Of you,” she panted as their hands moved together, pressing inside her, making her ache with need. “Come inside me, Barry. I need you.” Turning her head, she slid the hand on her breast out from under his and grabbed his hair, dragging his lips to hers, repeating her demand against his mouth. “I need you.”

Her words seemed to break something inside him, because he growled, “Damn it, Iris.” Releasing her breast, he pressed against her shoulder blades until she leaned forward to brace her weight against the mirror. “Don’t look away,” he ordered as he grabbed her hips and thrust inside her. “This is what you want, isn’t it? You want me to fuck you?”

She didn’t even have a chance to reply. He had teased her for so long, she came almost immediately when he thrust inside her, but Barry didn’t stop. He was merciless as he pounded into her, bringing her to orgasm again and again, bracing her hips in his hands when her knees buckled. 

Finally, with a shout, he climaxed and collapsed against her back, almost taking the two of them to the floor when Iris’s legs proved too shaky to support them both. “Oh, Iris,” he breathed, pressing a kiss to her temple as he helped her find her footing. Then he opened his mouth as if to say something more, paused, and shook his head. Releasing her, he stepped back and turned away, leaving the room without a word.

Iris took a moment to catch her breath and followed him back into the bedroom, only to find him splayed out on the bed again, his arm thrown over his eyes. “Um…I should…I should go,” she said softly, breaking the silence between them as she bent to scoop up her clothing. Barry didn’t respond. Holding her clothes to her chest in a strangely self-conscious gesture, she tried again. “We should, uh, we should probably touch base tomorrow about our schedules. I have some ideas about what we should do next.”

At that, Barry lifted one shoulder off the mattress in a halfhearted shrug. “Sure,” he mumbled. “I agreed to do everything you say, remember? Just give me a call whenever. I’m free all afternoon.”

She nodded. This was what she wanted, sex with no pretense of emotion. So she couldn’t explain why she felt so hollow inside as she darted back to the restroom to get dressed before sneaking out his front door without so much as a goodbye.

On her way out to her car, she saw a flash of light, and her stomach sank. She knew she should be grateful for the paparazzi who had undoubtedly just taken her picture. This kind of press would only serve her purposes. Her relationship with Barry wasn’t real; it was never intended to be private. But as she dove into her car and pulled away, she wished it could have remained private, anyway.

She didn’t know how Barry lived like this. She wasn’t sure she could do it.

* * *

_“Looks like things are getting interesting between you and Barry.”_ Iris wasn’t surprised to see the text from Linda the next day. _“How late was it when you made your walk of shame, anyway?”_

_“Very funny, Lin. I was too wiped to drive, so I crashed in his guest room for a while. It was nothing.”_

Any hope that her friend would accept her lie evaporated when she read the response. _“Oh, yeah. I remember thinking you were definitely sporting some ‘slept in the guest room’ hair in your picture.”_

Iris groaned. _“Well, we wanted to make it look good for the cameras,”_ she lied again.

She didn’t delude herself into thinking Linda had bought her story, but she at least seemed willing to pretend for her sake, as she didn’t press the point. Unfortunately, her next text was hardly comforting, either.

_“So, have you figured out how you’re going to end it when this is all over? The way things are going, it’ll be mission accomplished before long.”_

Ignoring the sinking sensation in her stomach, she forced herself to type her response. _“I haven’t finalized a plan yet, but I’m working on it. Any ideas?”_

Several minutes passed before she received Linda’s response. _“You’ll need to be the one to end it, you know. At least that’s what people will have to believe.”_

The thought had occurred to her, though the prospect gave her no joy. She told herself fit was only because she dreaded what how her image would be eviscerated in the press when it happened.

But Linda wasn’t done. _“And you’ll want to be thoughtful about who he’s seen dating next. It should be someone who helps reinforce his reformed image. If he’s willing to do it.”_ Iris stared at the text, reading it again and again. Rationally, she knew that there was wisdom in Linda’s advice. But the thought of watching Barry publicly engaged in a relationship with someone else after this was all over, even knowing that it would be no more real than her own relationship was…she couldn’t bear the thought.

Would he kiss that unnamed woman the way he kissed Iris? The thought made her want to cry.

_“That’s not going to be a problem, is it? I mean, it’s not like you’ve fallen for him or anything,”_ Linda asked.

Grateful her friend wasn’t there to see the look on her face, she typed out her response. _“No, of course not. It’s not a problem at all.”_

* * *

“I’m not saying you owe me because that would be rude. I’m just saying that in fairy tales, what I am about to give you would warrant the promise of a princess’s firstborn child. And I think you should bear that in mind when Christmas rolls around this year.” Joanie said with a smug smile as she slid an envelope across the table at Iris.

“That good, huh?” she asked skeptically as she nudged her coffee cup out of the way so she could scoop it up, “You were able to get those movie premiere tickets for me?”

“Better.”

Iris had started to make a skeptical sound, but it broke off abruptly as she flipped open the lip of the envelope and saw what was inside. “Holy shit, Jo. How’d you manage this?” Pulling out the embossed invitation, she skimmed the elegant cursive text once and then again, unable to entirely believe her eyes. “This is…it’s an invitation to Walter Prescott’s birthday celebration tomorrow night. Everybody who’s anybody in Hollywood is going to be there. I’m pretty sure people have offered to pay millions for a ticket. And you’re giving me _two_?” 

Narrowing her eyes in feigned suspicion, Iris asked, “Who did you have to kill for these? I’m not saying it wasn’t worth it. I just want to make sure I have my story straight when the police come knocking on my door.”

Joanie laughed. “No hit squads necessary…this time. Alex’s girlfriend somehow got her hands on a couple of tickets. I think her dad’s some sort of diplomat or something. They were planning to go, but then Alex got the flu. They offered the tickets to Kara, but you know she’d rather jump off a building than go to this kind of thing. So she gave them to me.”

“Jesus,” Iris breathed, putting the tickets safely in her purse. If Barry wanted to break into Hollywood, he was going to need connections. There was no better way to rub elbows with the right people than Walter Prescott’s annual birthday bacchanalia. “I – You’re right. I totally owe you my firstborn child.”

Her former sorority sister laughed. “I actually am not in the market for kids right now, so I’ll pass. But if you wanted to get me a berry mocha muffin, I wouldn’t turn it down.”

* * *

Iris stifled a yawn behind her fist as she reached for her glass of water. She would have expected that an event people were willing to pay millions to get into would be less…dull. Though she supposed the festivities hadn’t really gotten underway yet. She and Barry were seated at the birthday dinner at an upscale hotel in the heart of the city. After a few hours of dinner and dancing, the party would move to Prescott’s private estate, where the biggest and most important names in Hollywood would drink and party the night away.

She would have thought Barry would be enjoying the festivities, but he had been withdrawn all evening. He had barely said a word to her from the moment she showed up on his doorstep in a dress the color of champagne that had a slit nearly to her hip and hugged her every curve. Though he’d murmured a compliment and kissed her on the cheek after escorting her to the limo – for the benefit of the cameras, of course – he had been distant ever since.

Even now. She glanced at Barry out of her eye and saw that he was engrossed in conversation with the person on his other side. Quickly wiping the scowl off her face, she sighed. She couldn’t exactly fault his behavior. He wasn’t being rude – or even cold, per se. He made sure to engage with her enough to satisfy the cameras and ensure no inconvenient rumors would hit the headlines in the morning. But he was still…distant.

When he smiled at her, it didn’t reach his eyes. Every time he leaned down to murmur in her ear, she was painfully reminded that this was nothing more than an act. Of course, she’d always known that was true. But tonight, it felt true. And she didn’t know what she could do about it – or even if she should.

Bored, Iris found herself praying for the first time that her evening with Barry would end. She shot him a look out of the corner of her eye just when he turned to look down at her. When their eyes met, he threw her that same polished smile she’d seen all evening, pulled her into a one-armed embrace for the sake of the cameras, kissed her temple, and then turned his attention back to his previous conversation.

Iris clenched her teeth in reaction to the irritation she couldn’t let herself convey. Apparently, she was going to have to do something drastic to get his attention. She took a quick glance around to make sure the tablecloth was long enough to cover her movements and then reached for the line of her underwear under her dress. Shifting back and forth slowly, using conversation with the other couples at the table to cover her movements so as to not draw attention to what she was doing, she nudged her underwear down her hips.

Drawing her panties out from under her ass was the tricky part, and she feared for a second that Barry had caught on to what she was doing when he shot another glance her way. But, no, he paused only long enough to throw her another hollow smile, and then his attention wandered once more. Iris bit back a curse as she pretended to drop her napkin and used the motion of bending down to pick it up as cover to pull her panties down to her thighs.

After that, the task became infinitely easier. Rubbing her legs back and forth slowly, she slid her silky thong down her legs to her knees, where they hovered for a moment before falling easily to the ground. Iris carefully scooped up the tiny scrap of fabric with one foot, fighting back a devilish smile as she casually reached under the table to retrieve her underwear.

Then, when she was sure Barry was well and truly distracted, she slipped the thong, still warm from her body, into his hand. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched as a slight frown of confusion flickered across his face. Then he jumped, slamming his knee against the underside of the table as realization sunk in. He spun to face her even as he muttered a sheepish apology for his clumsiness, but Iris met his wide-eye astonishment with feigned innocence.

Let him ignore her _now_.

Reaching for her hand under the table, Barry gave it a squeeze as he leaned in and pressed a kiss against her lips, playing to the audience. Nuzzling her ear, he whispered, “You know I’m going to get you back for that, right?”

Iris smiled. “I know you’ll try,” she dared him in return. He snorted and straightened, seemingly turning his attention back to his previous conversation. However, underneath the table, his fingers pushed the fold of her dress aside and tickled the skin just above her knee. 

Iris bit back a smile as she accepted the glass of champagne placed before her by a passing waiter. Barry, however, shook his head at the offer. “Can’t stand the stuff,” he offered in explanation. All the while, his fingers traced a slow path up her leg to her hip, the folds of her skirt falling open under his touch.

He stroked her hip with the outside his fingers as he laughed at something someone else at the table said and leaned forward in a pretense of getting the waiter’s attention to order another drink. Iris caught her breath when he used the motion to cover his movements as he slid his hand over her thigh to her inner leg, stroking the soft skin there.

When Iris glanced over at him, she saw that he was watching her out of the corner of his eye. Reading his silent challenge, Iris slowly spread her thighs as she took a sip of her champagne. 

Barry grinned, and Iris had to catch her breath when he slipped his fingers inside her. She was gratified to see that he was not entirely unaffected by what he was doing to her. When she put her hand on his thigh, he was so tense it was like touching corded steel. She shifted slightly in her seat, pressing against his hand, and watched a muscle jump in his jaw. 

When she let her hand drift towards his inner thigh, however, he pulled his hand away to grab her wrist instead, holding her in place. Leaning in, he murmured in a gravelly undertone, “Not a good idea, Princess.”

Iris grinned and turned her attention to the woman sitting on her other side, picking up an earlier thread of conversation. But her momentary sense of victory was short-lived; she was just asking about her companion’s children when she felt Barry’s fingers enter her again. Surprised, she sucked in a sharp breath and jerked, biting back a moan just in time.

“I – I was crossing my legs and I hit my knee on the bar under the table,” she lied when her companion asked if she was okay. She wanted to murder Barry when she heard his soft snort of laughter next to her, even as he slid two fingers inside her and flicked her clit with the tip of his thumb. Iris had to grip the side of the table with both hands and focus on her breathing to keep from giving herself away.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” the older woman asked. “You look flushed.”

“I’m-I’m fine,” Iris panted. “It’s just a little warm in here. Anyway, you were saying? Something about –” She let her voice trail off since she couldn’t have said what her companion had been saying if her life depended on it. 

Barry was ruthless, sliding his fingers in and out of her, tickling her inner walls. When Iris lifted her champagne glass to her mouth with one trembling hand, he leaned in and whispered, “I want to be inside of you right now.”

“We should dance,” Iris blurted, interrupting the older woman’s story about her oldest son’s girlfriend. Pushing away from the table, she twitched her dress back into place and stood, hoping her trembling legs weren’t noticeable. “Barry?”

His smile was entirely too smug as he followed her to his feet. “Of course,” he agreed, stepping slightly behind her to block the evidence of his arousal from view. “Lead the way.”

Iris stepped towards the dance floor, even as she scanned the room for the nearest exit. A dance had been a convenient excuse to get away from the table; what she really wanted was to get him alone. Finally spotting a door leading outside, she started to skirt the crowd until Barry grabbed her hand and gave it a tug, pulling her into his arms.

“I didn’t really want to dance,” she mumbled as his arm went around her, pulling her close.

“I know,” he whispered, nuzzling the side of her neck. “But if we just disappear, people will ask questions.”

Leaning in, she pressed against him, feeling the hard line of his erection through their clothing. “And if I take you inside me right here in the middle of all these people? Will they ask questions then?” His chuckle was pained, so she pressed her advantage. 

Standing on her tiptoes, she whispered in his ear, “I can feel how hard you are. I want to take you into my hand. My mouth. Stroke you slowly. You’ve already felt how wet I am. I’m so ready for you to slide inside me and –”

“Let’s get some fresh air,” Barry blurted, spinning her around again and nudging her back towards the door. Stifling a laugh, Iris made her way to the exit, stopping only long enough for Barry to grab a half-empty bottle of champagne from a waiter as they passed.

“I thought you hated champagne?” she teased, her voice full of feigned innocence as he held it in front of his crotch, blocking his erection from view. 

Barry just glowered at her out of the corner of his eye, directing her towards the line of limos by the curb, waiting to take the esteemed guests to the real party. “Come on,” he grunted.

“We’re supposed to head over to the Prescott Estate soon,” she reminded him as she climbed into the back seat.

Pausing only long enough to give the driver his directions, Barry followed. “Yeah? Well, we may be a little late.”

As the driver pulled away from the curb, Barry pushed Iris gently back against the seat and lifted her leg over his shoulder, letting the folds of the dress slide off her thigh to pool around her waist as she spread herself open for him. Massaging her calf, he stared down at her with a look of awe. “This is never going to get old.”

“Keep frustrating me like this, _you’re_ not going to grow old,” she growled.

Barry laughed and lifted the bottle of champagne, carefully pouring it down her leg. Iris shivered as the bubbly liquid poured over her and then shuddered when he turned his head and licked the rivulets of alcohol off her warm skin. He moved the bottle over her knee and poured more champagne down her thigh, quickly following with his mouth. 

“Oh, my god, Barry,” Iris breathed, wrapping her legs around him.

Iris’s breath was ragged as she snatched the bottle out of his hand. Pushing down the straps of her dress, she met his eyes in challenge as she tilted the bottle over her breasts. The liquid was cold as it ran over her nipples, but Barry’s breath was hot as he followed with his mouth.

Iris groaned, running her hands through his hair as he sucked her nipple between his teeth and flicked his tongue against the nub. He licked the underside of her breast, increasing suction to leave a mark just under its curve.

“More,” she breathed as he kissed his way down her chest to her stomach and then down to the open slit of her dress. 

“You know what? You were right. I could get used to the taste of champagne, after all,” he joked, his mouth pressed against her skin. “But I like the taste of you even better.” Pushing her thighs wide, he ducked between her legs, running his tongue along her outer folds. 

Iris sighed and arched her back, her hands fisted in his hair, holding him tightly to her. She moaned as his tongue teased her with smooth strokes. He scraped her with his teeth and thrust his tongue deep inside her until she was mindlessly panting his name. “Please. Barry, please.”

“Come for me,” he breathed, nipping her inner thigh with his teeth. Lifting one hand, he teased her breasts as he licked his way to her opening again. Pinching her nipple, he speared her again with his tongue, pressing hard against her clit.

Iris screamed as her orgasm washed over her, shuddering against his mouth. Before her shudders could subside, Barry lifted her off the seat, rotating to pull her down on top of him. In one swift move, she guided him to her entrance and sunk down on him, taking his cock deep inside of her.

Her breath catching in her throat, Iris rolled her hips against his in strong, steady strokes. He slid his hands under her ass and squeezed before slipping his long fingers between her thighs to tease her even as she rode him. With a soft hiss, Iris grabbed his wrists and lifted them to the back of the seat, pinning them on either side of his head. He had teased her long enough. This time, she was calling the shots.

Lifting herself off him, Iris fell to her knees in front of his seat. Barry groaned as she took him in her hand, running her fingers along his erection in steady strokes. Taking him into her mouth, she swirled her tongue around the tip of his penis, savoring the taste of their juices on his skin. Iris took him deep in her throat, pressing her tongue against the vein on the underside of his shaft. 

Increasing suction, she hummed softly as she bobbed up and down on his shaft. “Iris – god, Iris,” he groaned, his fingers clenched into fists at his sides. She knew he was close to climax, but she didn’t stop. Instead, she cupped his balls in her hand, pressing her thumb against the base of his shaft as she sucked him as far into her mouth as she could, swallowing quickly as he came.

Iris swirled her tongue against the tip of his penis as she lifted herself off him and smiled as he pulled her on top of him once more. Guiding her lips down to his, he sucked her tongue into his mouth. She rocked against him until she felt him grow hard against her once more.

“Again?” she asked with a gasp.

“Baby, you’re gonna kill me,” he growled as he thrust inside her. She rode him hard and fast, her fingers digging into his shoulders as he brought her to orgasm once more. She pressed her mouth against his, swallowing his shout as he shuddered and came inside her, his arms tightening around her waist, holding her against him almost hard enough to take her breath away.

Iris collapsed on top of him, her head pressed against his shoulder as they fought for breath. Bracing herself for what she would see, she glanced down at the dress bunched around her waist, noticing with chagrin that it was irrevocably wrinkled and covered in champagne stains. Barry looked to be in a slightly better state, since his black tuxedo covered much of the damage, though his shirt would be completely unsalvageable. 

“Oh, my god. I can’t possibly go to the party like this. What are we going to do?”

With a grin, Barry rested one palm on her leg. “Well, if we can’t go anywhere anyway…”

Iris laughed and shook her head. “Steady there, tiger. I didn’t promise away my firstborn child for you to skip this party. I have an idea. Call Harry and have him bring a white dress shirt to my place. I’m sure I can find something else to wear. Though I’m not quite sure how we’ll explain it.”

Feigning a disappointed sigh, Barry pulled his phone out of his pocket. After glancing at the screen, he threw her a sheepish smile. “So, uh…is this a good time to mention that my parents just texted? They want us to come visit them this weekend.”

Iris looked down at the state of the both of them – covered in champagne, her dress in complete ruins where it pooled around her waist, the two of them completely exposed – and hid her face in her hands as she let out a disbelieving bark of laughter. “Of course they do. Oh my god.”


	10. Chapter 10

“So, is there anything I should know before we do this?” Iris asked, shifting the weight of her overnight bag in one hand as she looked at the front door in dread. Nora and Henry Allen had invited them over for dinner, but Barry had suggested they spend the night while they were there. As he explained, he liked to take the opportunity to get away whenever possible. Unable to come up with an excuse to decline, Iris had reluctantly agreed.

Barry smiled and squeezed her hand. “You don’t have to be nervous. They’re going to love you, you know.” Then, after a pause, he added reassuringly, “They know the truth about us, remember?”

Though she nodded, his words did little to reassure her. His parents may have been told that their relationship was a sham, but unless they had never heard of the Internet, they also had to have seen the speculation about the two of them that morning. It wasn’t unusual for women to change dresses between the Prescott dinner and private birthday celebration. However, more than one eagle eyed fan had noticed that Barry had also changed shirts, and that had led to a flurry of speculation and innuendo.

The fact that the speculation was more or less accurate didn’t help Iris’s nerves. She had no compunction against lying to Mason as she had that morning, pretending that it was all part of her plan. It seemed underhanded, though, to do so to Barry’s parents.

Though it would probably be more mortifying to tell the truth.

It seemed silly to tell Barry all of that, however, so when he asked if she was ready, she put on a brave face and nodded. Before she could second-guess her decision, Barry threw open the door without so much as a knock and escorted her inside. “Mom! Dad! We’re here!”

“Barry!” An attractive older woman with auburn hair turned from the table and rushed towards them, pulling her son into a tight hug. An older man with a warm smile finished placing a serving bowl in the center of the table and then followed. Iris hung back, dropping her bag in the corner. She was unwilling to intrude on the moment, but when she thrust her hand forward to shake her hosts’ in greeting, they pulled her in to a hug instead.

When the immediate chaos died down, she found herself being herded towards the table by Barry’s mom, while Barry was engrossed in conversation with his dad. Scrambling for her manners, she finally offered, “Ah, you have a beautiful home. Sorry we’re late, by the way, Mrs. Allen.”

“Nora, please,” her hostess corrected her warmly. “And I’ll tell you a secret. Henry and I are well aware that our son has never been on time to anything in his life. We always tell him to come over a half hour earlier than we need him to be here. If you ever need him to show up anywhere on time, I highly recommend you try it – though don’t tell him I said so.”

Iris smiled. “I’ll bear that in mind, though he’s better with that than he used to be. When we first met, getting him to show up on time for an appointment was like pulling teeth. He’s gotten pretty punctual lately. Well, except when it involved work,” she amended with a chuckle.

“Oh, really? Well, you must be a good influence, then,” Nora remarked as she showed Iris to her seat. “Henry? Barry? Come sit! The food is getting cold!”

Iris lapsed into contented silence as Barry took his seat next to her. She was more than happy to let him take charge of the conversation, spending the next few minutes catching up with his parents. It wasn’t long, however, before his mother redirected the conversation back to her.

“So. Iris. Tell us more about yourself. Did you always want to be a publicist?”

She shook her head. “No, actually. If you can believe it, I used to want to be a cop. But, well…” Trailing off, she gestured at herself. “As you can see, I don’t exactly meet the minimum height and weight requirements. Then I thought I might want to go into journalism, but that isn’t exactly a growing field right now. Being a publicist, well…it allows me to do what I love in telling other people’s stories. Just in a different way.”

“Have you been in the business long?” Nora prompted as she passed Henry the mashed potatoes.

Iris shook her head, shifting slightly under the weight of Nora’s regard. “Not too long, I suppose. I interned with Mason – my boss – in college, and I’ve been working with him officially for a little while now. But actually, Barry’s my first real client.” Belatedly, she realized that she’d intentionally not told him that, but she simply threw him a small smile and an apologetic shrug. It wasn’t like he could exactly fire her now. He simply rolled his eyes at her in an exaggerated motion and shook his head.

“And how do you like it so far? Being a publicist, I mean.”

Before Iris could answer, Barry laughed and asked in a teasing tone, “Mom, do you want to lighten up a bit? I’ve heard less intense interrogations than you’re putting Iris through right now.”

Nora snorted. “It is not that bad!” she protested.

“Are you sure? Because I’m about to go get the lamp from the living room so you can shine it directly into her face and really give her the full experience. Do you – do you want me to go get it? I’ll go get it,” Barry offered, rising partway to his feet. 

His mother laughed and shook her head. “Well, maybe if you brought women by more often, I wouldn’t be so out of practice!” she chided him.

Barry snorted. “You’ve never invited another woman over before now,” he pointed out.

“If I’d ever thought any of the women you dated before now were special to you, I would have!” she protested. Iris stiffened slightly, and when Barry threw his mother a wide-eyed stare, she continued quickly, “Not that you and Iris are really dating, of course. Your friends are always welcome. You know that.”

“This chicken is fantastic, honey. You really outdid yourself this time,” Henry interjected, smoothly deflecting the conversation from the peculiar nature of their son’s relationship. Iris felt herself relax at the change of subject. Over the remainder of the meal, the conversation shifted to Barry’s upcoming tour and newest album.

After dinner, however, when she reached to take the plates into the kitchen, Henry quickly moved to intercept her. “Oh, no you don’t. In this house, when one of us cooks, the other cleans. You go have a seat in the living room and relax.” Raising his voice pointedly at his son, he joked, “I’m going to see if my son still remembers how to wash a dish or if he’s gotten too spoiled in his life as a superstar.”

Barry raised his voice in mock affront, but when Iris hesitated, wondering if she should argue the point, Henry winked at her. “Nora doesn’t bite. I promise.”

She laughed good-naturedly. “I’m not worried,” she lied, letting him shoo her into the other room. Once in the living room, she paused long enough to peruse the photos hung on the walls. “You have a beautiful family,” she remarked to the older woman as she entered the room.

Nora glowed with maternal pride as she followed Iris’s gaze. “Thank you,” she murmured. “I worry sometimes about the life Barry leads, but his father and I are very proud of him.”

Iris threw his mother a quick glance over her shoulder. “It’s a different kind of world he lives in, I know. But you don’t have to worry. Barry’s…he’s wonderful. I doubt celebrity has changed him that much.” 

She could feel his mother’s eyes on her as she replied, “No, I suppose not. But I worry sometimes that it’s made him closed off. Lonely. He’s never had the easiest time letting people in. These last few years…I’ve worried it’s gotten harder for him. I wish he could find happiness, but I wonder if he’d even let himself. I think he doesn’t think it’s even possible, with the life he leads.” 

Iris didn’t know how to respond to that, so she simply turned her attention back to the pictures. “Did he always want to be a musician?” she asked, staring at a picture of a little tousle-haired boy with a too-large guitar on his lap.

Nora made a soft sound. “Oh, no. He used to talk about being a physicist. He and Cisco started their band in college, as just a way to blow off steam. They had just started getting some attention when Cisco sold his first invention and decided to pursue a career as an engineer. Of course, he still helps Barry out with the music when he can. They still write songs together. But I think sometimes Barry misses those days in college, when it was just the two of them, having fun together.”

Iris mulled over his mother’s words as she stared at a photo of Barry and Cisco side by side in their graduation gowns. He looked so carefree and happy. Iris had never seen that smile on his face before – at least, she hadn’t until he walked through his parents’ front door. Watching him joke around with his parents, she realized she was seeing a side to him she’d never seen before.

The next picture made her laugh – Barry at around seven years old, dressed in a superhero cape as he threw the camera a cheesy smile. “This one’s my favorite,” he remarked.

His mom chuckled. “If you like that, I have some others you should see. Hold on. I’ve got Barry’s baby book around here somewhere –”

Eager to see Barry as a little boy, Iris moved to the couch, where she sat and waited to get a glimpse of her pseudo-boyfriend as a little boy. A mischievous grin crossed her face when she pictured the expression on Barry’s face when he saw what she and his mother had been up to while he was otherwise occupied.

[hr]

“So, Iris seems nice,” Henry remarked in a mild voice as he passed his son a soapy dish.

Barry shot him a look out of the corner of his eye. “We’re not really dating, you know,” he reminded his father.

“Are you sure about that?” Throwing Barry a quick look, he explained, “I’ve see the way you look at her.”

He sighed. “I’m sure. I mean, I like her. But she’s made it pretty clear she has no intention of falling in love with me.” At his father’s laugh, he frowned. “What?” 

The older man shook his head. “Just remembering that there was once I time I felt much the same way. I was planning to go to medical school, and love presented a complication I was sure I didn’t need.”

“So what happened?”

Henry grinned. “I would like to see anyone resist your mother. I was in love with her before I even knew what hit me.”

Barry snorted. “Yeah? Well…Iris doesn’t seem to have that problem.”

His father lifted one shoulder in a slight shrug. “If you say so. But, like I said. She seems nice.”

Uncertain if he wanted to push the point, Barry let it go and changed the subject. However, he was still thinking about their peculiar conversation a few minutes later when he walked towards the living room, eager to see what Iris had gotten up to in his absence. When he saw the baby book spread open on her lap, however, his jaw dropped. 

“Mom, I – Iris has barely been here for an hour and you’re already showing her my baby book?” he demanded in feigned indignation. Stepping closer, he saw that Iris was laughing at a picture of him as a little boy, dressed in nothing but a t-shirt as he pouted over a bowl of oatmeal. “Oh my god,” he breathed, feeling his face go crimson. 

“You were an adorable little boy!” his mom protested.

“Do you still eat breakfast without pants on?” Iris asked with an overly-innocent grin.

Barry huffed. “You know, I’ve worked very hard to craft a certain image. Ten minutes at home, and my mom completely obliterates it.” 

Iris snorted. “No don’t be silly! I –” Looking at a picture of him at the height of his awkward teenage years, she cracked up. “Nope. Sorry. I can’t do it. I can’t lie. Your image as a rock god is totally shot. I’m never getting this picture out of my head.”

“That’s it,” Barry growled, pulling his baby book off her lap before sweeping her into his arms. “I’m getting you out of here before mom shows you my naked baby pictures. Mom, Dad, if you need us, we’ll be watching movies in the guest room until Iris forgets the horror she has just seen.”

Iris gasped, though she only put up a token protest as he carried her towards the guest room. “You have naked baby pictures? I want to see! Henry, distract Barry! Nora, bring me the naked baby pictures!” 

“Don’t listen to her! She’s delirious!” Barry shouted over his shoulder, over the sound of Iris’s shrieks of protest. They were both laughing when he tossed her onto the bed, falling onto the mattress next to her. “I can’t believe she did that,” he huffed, though his smile belied his irritation.

“What? Those pictures were adorable! The one of you dressed like a zombie for Halloween -?”

He groaned. “Don’t remind me.” Throwing his arm over her, he pinned her to the mattress. “Keep this up and I’m going to have to do something drastic to distract you.” 

Iris tried to throw him a grave look, but the corners of her lips still twitched with mirth. After a moment, she giggled and shook her head. “Nope. Sorry. Can’t do it. I know you’re trying to be all grumpy and serious, but that image is ruined now.”

Barry thrust his lower lip out in an exaggerated pout. “No! Don’t laugh! I’m intense and filled with angst! And arrogance! You’re supposed to fear me! Fear me, darn it! I’m a rock god!” 

It was enough to send her over the edge, and Barry couldn’t help but grin down at her as she laughed until tears came to her eyes. Once she finally caught her breath, she lifted one hand to his cheek. “You know, I think I finally found him. The real Barry Allen.”

His smile falling, Barry stared at her with guarded eyes. “And what’s the verdict? You want to be his friend?”

Iris bit her lower lip and her eyes were troubled as her gaze swept her face. Finally, she gave an almost imperceptible nod and scraped her teeth against her lower lip. “Yeah,” she agreed in a voice barely above a whisper. “Yeah, I do.”

Unable to resist, Barry ducked his head and brushed a kiss against her lips. They had agreed they would keep their relationship professional this evening, but surely she wouldn’t begrudge him one small slip. Indeed, she let out a deep sigh and melted into his kiss, pulling him closer.

Before things could progress any further, Barry pulled away and rolled off her, distracting the both of them as he turned on the television and flipped through the channels until he came across an old black and white monster movie. Iris curled up against his side, resting her head on his shoulder. Comforted by the steady rise and fall of her breath against his side, Barry felt his usual stress and tensions seep out of his body. He stroked one hand lazily up and down her spine as they settled in to watch the movie.

Later that evening, when it was time to turn in, Barry shifted to pull away, intending to return to his bedroom. However, before he could move, Iris wrapped her fingers in his shirt and held tight. “No,” she breathed. “Don’t go. Stay here with me tonight?”

Barry caught his breath. “Are you sure?” he murmured, almost unable to believe his ears.

Her hand trembled slightly against his heart, but her gaze was steady when she nodded. “Yeah. I’m sure. Just for tonight. Stay with me?”

Unable to trust himself to speak, Barry simply nodded and leaned back against the pillows. He couldn’t deny her this. He suspected he couldn’t deny her anything.

[hr]

The next morning, Iris awoke to the warmth of cotton against her cheek. She froze, suspecting she knew what she would find when she opened her eyes. For this last moment, she wanted to embrace the fantasy. But eventually, she had to face the truth, and so she opened her eyes.

And found herself in bed alone.

Her heart lurched, her stomach twisting into a knot, when the bedroom door opened and Barry walked in. He was still dressed in the worn t-shirt and sweat pants he’d changed into before bed the night before, his hair still rumpled from sleep. In his hand, he carried two large mugs of coffee. “Morning. I hope I didn’t wake you.”

Her heartbeat returning to normal, Iris breathed a heavy sigh. “Oh, thank god,” she groaned as she grabbed for the coffee. “You’re a lifesaver.”

Barry quirked his eyebrows up at her, holding the coffee mug just out of reach. “And a rock god?”

Iris laughed and lunged for the delicious black brew, both surprised and pleased to find he’d fixed it just the way she liked it. “We’ll see. The jury’s still out. Your mom isn’t done showing me pictures.”

“Oh, my god. I knew introducing the two of you was a mistake,” he grumbled as he lowered himself on the mattress next to her. “They asked if we wanted to spend the day with them, but I’m not sure I want to risk it.”

“Aw, poor Barry. You –”

Before she could continue, there was a knock on the door. Henry stood in the doorway, looking far more alert at this early hour than either Iris or Barry could so much as contemplate. “Hey. There’s a Mason Bridge at the door? He wanted to speak with the two of you.”

Iris went from amused to anxious in less than a heartbeat. Feeling slightly nauseated, she threw a quick glance at the clock. Mason was there to see them before eight in the morning? That couldn’t possibly be good. Had something happened? Was she about to get fired? Not daring to look Barry’s way, she threw Henry a tight smile. “Oh. Thank you. Let him know I’ll be right there.”

Whatever had prompted this visit, it couldn’t possibly be good.


	11. Chapter 11

Her heart was hammering in her chest as Iris walked into the living room and found her boss standing there, waiting for her. Perhaps it was a blessing that she’d had so much experience playing to the cameras lately; it made it possible for her to force a smile and hide her concern as she stepped forward. “Mason! This is quite the surprise. Is everything okay?”

Mason’s gaze flickered from her to Barry, entering behind her, and he gave a slight nod. “I’m sorry to bother you both at home, but there’s something I needed to bring to your attention. I didn’t think it could wait.” 

Her smile became a fraction brighter even as her stomach twisted at those foreboding words. “Oh. Well, why don’t we sit and you can tell us about it,” she suggested, as though the warmth and love that pervaded every inch of the Allens’ living room would act as a protective talisman for her. Surely Mason wasn’t here with the intent to fire her?

Once they were settled in, however, Mason looked down at his hands as though pondering how to begin. “Iris, there’s…I stumbled across something yesterday and I thought it was…well, a fluke, but I did some digging and it turns out…” Trailing off, he heaved a heavy sigh and reached into his pocket. Pulling out some folded papers, he handed them over. “These are just two of the stories that are going to be run this week. These will be posted tonight, but I have it on good authority that others are coming.”

With trembling hands, Iris unfolded the documents in her hand. The copy was devoid of photos, but the headings spoke for themselves: _“How a “Good Girl” Captured the Bad Boy of Music Row”_ and _“Fashion Icon: Dress Like Iris West…for Less!”_

“Those are only working titles, of course, but I don’t anticipate too many other changes before these go to print,” Mason explained as she skimmed the articles.

Iris felt Barry’s presence as he leaned over her shoulder to read, and then he let out an incredulous laugh. “That’s it? When you showed up, I was a little concerned that someone had – uh – Photoshopped nude pictures of us or something. What’s the problem with these?”

Mason didn’t answer right away; he simply watched her in silence. She forced herself to meet his gaze, feeling like she had the Sword of Damocles hanging over her head. She barely knew how she managed to speak the words, as her entire body had gone numb as she processed the implications of the headlines. “It’s…the problem is…the problem is I’m the story.” Flicking a quick look his way, she explained, “These aren’t about you. Or even about us. They’re about me.” 

She could see he still didn’t see where this was headed, but she couldn’t worry about that right now. Sucking in a deep breath, she asked, “Am I – does this mean I’m fired?”

“Why would you be fired?” Barry asked in confusion.

Mason looked at Barry – her client – and explained in a voice devoid of apology, “Because the minute she became part of the story, I told her she would be if she failed in this assignment. Publicists are supposed to drive the story. Not be part of it.”

“What? That’s ridiculous!” Barry blurted angrily, leaning forward like he wanted to throw Mason out of his house.

On instinct, Iris reached out and put her hand on his arm, though she drew it away again just as fast when she realized Mason was watching them. “No. Barry, it’s…it’s okay. So, Mason? Am I fired?”

Her boss shook his head, though his expression was still unreadable. “It’s like I told you, West. In this business, a mistake isn’t a mistake if it’s a success. But it does change things. We have some decisions to make.”

Leaning back to put some distance between them, Barry said, “Look, we don’t need to make a big deal out of this. If this is going to be such a problem, then we can just break up. We can spread the rumor that we broke up, I mean. Problem solved.”

Mason sighed. “The thing is, I’m not sure that would solve our problem at this point. Once I heard that these stories were in the works, I started digging into things a little bit more. I – and I assume the two of you were as well – was so focused on how people have responded to your relationship and Barry’s image makeover that I didn’t notice how they were responding to Iris on her own. She…well, to put it quite bluntly, she has amassed a number of fans already. People are responding to her, to what they perceive about her, outside of her relationship with you. 

“If I was absolutely certain that a staged breakup at this point wouldn’t backfire, I’d say we should do it. But now I don’t know. If we spread tell people you’ve broken up, then, of course, it might mean people would stop being so interested in her and in another month or so, she could fade into obscurity. But it could also be that those fans don’t get bored and move on, and a breakup could undo all the work you’ve put in. Either because people conclude it was all PR, or because they assume you lived up to the reputation we’re trying to change for you.”

Unable to take it any longer, Iris snapped, “Can you not talk about me like I’m not in the room?” In that moment, she didn’t care if he thought she was being rude or unprofessional. Once she had his attention again, she demanded, “Okay, so if breaking up isn’t the answer…I know you better than to think you came here without some kind of plan. Let’s hear it.”

For the first time in their entire conversation, Mason smiled at her. “You know what we have to do, Iris. If we can’t change the situation, we use it to our advantage. We embrace your newfound celebrity. With any luck, you’ll be just another flash in the pan – big news today, but forgotten tomorrow when another celebrity couple steals the spotlight.” After a second’s hesitation, he conceded, “Of course, it could be that you’re not. But we can only tackle this one problem at a time.”

He was leaving something out. She could tell. Her eyes narrowed, she pressed, “And Barry and me? Our relationship? What’s your plan there?”

“Ah. Yes. Well. I hope, at least, that people are interested in you now because of the fairy tale nature of your relationship. Beauty and the Beast, you might say. He’s been – well, he’s had a certain _reputation_ , so to speak, and you’re the woman who tamed the rebel. And right now, people aren’t sure whether to root for the fairy tale ending or if they’re just waiting for him to fall from grace. So…so we give them that fairy tale ending, and we hope that after the dust settles, they move on.”

Iris and Barry exchanged a dubious glance, and then he asked, “Wait…what do you mean by ‘we give them that fairy tale ending?’”

Mason pulled a small box out of his pocket and opened it, putting it on the table between them. A large diamond glinted in the morning light pouring through the windows. “Well, how would the two of you feel about an engagement?”

* * *

 _I can’t do this_ , Iris told herself a few minutes later, as she and Barry stared at each other in silence. After dropping that bombshell, Mason had asked if he could use the restroom – no doubt wanting to give the two of them a moment to process his plan.

Barry’s voice was soft when he finally asked, “So, what do you want to do?”

She shook her head, a wild, uncontrollable movement. “I-I can’t do this. I know – it’s not – I can’t. This is – you and me – this has been – it’s complicated enough already! To pretend we’re engaged on top of everything else?” she stammered. “Are you actually considering this?”

His gaze dropping to the floor, he shrugged. “It’s not the same for me, I guess. I’m used to putting on an act. How is it really that different from pretending to be dating, when you think about it?”

“Because I – don’t you want it to be _real_?” she demanded. When his eyes shot back to hers, she realized how close she’d come to betraying herself. Iris closed her eyes and turned her face away, afraid of what he’d see there. Because the truth was, when he’d asked her the night before if she wanted to be his friend, that was when she realized it. She wanted to be more. She didn’t know when it happened, but she’d been on a precipice of her feelings for him for some time. Seeing him the day before, the way he was with his family… Seeing the _real_ Barry Allen – it was all she needed to tumble over the edge.

She was falling in love with him, and the thought of pretending to be engaged to him when she knew it would only be an act on his part, she was afraid it would break her.

But fear held her back from telling him the truth, and so she latched on to the nearest excuse. Her voice trembling, she murmured, “When you get engaged one day, don’t you want it be real? With someone you really, truly love? I’ve seen the way your parents are together, the love they share. I can’t – I can’t ask you to make a mockery of it like this.”

His fingers were gentle when they stroked her cheek. “Iris, I don’t think of it like that. I don’t think we’re making a mockery of anything.”

Desperate to get a hold of herself, aware her emotions were too raw and too close to the surface, Iris jumped up. “Look, I just…Can I have a minute? I need to think, okay?”

Barry’s eyes were hooded, hiding his thoughts, as he rose to his feet beside her. “Of course. I’m – for what it’s worth, I’m sorry. You’re only in this position because of me, but please believe me when I say I never meant for you to get hurt.”

She almost laughed because she knew he still didn’t understand. She hadn’t been hurt yet. But she was afraid she was going to be. And she couldn’t think of any way to stop it.

* * *

She didn’t know how much time passed as she sat in the guest bedroom and listened to the low murmur of voices through the wall. Her mind raced around in circles as she stared with unseeing eyes at the rumpled spot on the mattress where she and Barry had slept together the night before. 

Try as she might, she couldn’t really think of a way out of the situation. Everything Mason had said was true. If she and Barry broke things off now, there was a chance it would backfire on him, making her last few weeks in the limelight totally in vain. 

But more than that, she didn’t know how she could pretend to be engaged to Barry and not fall even more in love with him. How was she supposed to protect her heart when she’d already given it away? 

For a moment, she considered telling him the truth. Confessing everything. But she knew better than anyone that she wasn’t the first – and undoubtedly wouldn’t be the last – to fall for Barry Allen. She had no illusions about his feelings for her. As he said, he was used to living a lie. She didn’t believe for a moment that he was as foolish as her – foolish enough to mistake this lie for the truth.

Long before she could come to a decision, she heard a gentle knock on the door. “Come in,” she called softly.

She was unsurprised when Barry walked in, stopping a few feet away. That he looked nervous and uncertain was a bit unexpected, however. His hands in his pockets, he glanced at her and then away as he asked, “Mason is leaving soon. He wanted to know if you’ve come to a decision.”

“Have you?” she asked in return. “What do _you_ want to do, Barry?”

“This isn’t about me.”

She couldn’t help but laugh. “It kind of is. It takes two people to make an engagement, after all. Even a fake one.” When he didn’t respond, she patted the mattress, inviting him to sit next to her. As he sank down next to her, she clutched her hands in her lap and pressed, “You haven’t answered my question.”

Instead of responding, Barry opened one fist to show the diamond ring he held. Iris caught her breath, looking at the simple diamond band. “That isn’t the ring Mason brought,” she murmured.

He shook his head. “No. This was my great-grandmother’s.” 

“Oh, Barry, I couldn’t –” she began, but her voice broke off when he reached out and grabbed her hand. 

For the first time, he held her gaze. But instead of arguing, when he spoke, it was to tell a story. “You know, my dad gave my mom this when he proposed. My mom used to tell me the story all the time when I was younger, because he’d slipped it into her hand when they were feeding ducks together, and she almost threw it into the water before she realized what it was. She would laugh when she remembered the look on his face when he lunged forward to stop her.”

“I – that’s a sweet story, Barry, but don’t you see that’s why I can’t –”

Ignoring her interjection, he continued, “Of course, when I was younger, I didn’t understand the big deal. Who cared about some stupid ring? So one day, when they were retelling the story for the millionth time, I asked them. It’s just a silly ring. Why would it matter so much if she’d accidentally fed it to some ducks? And I’ll never forget what my dad said.”

Iris watched as his face softened at the memory. “He said it isn’t just a ring. It’s a promise. When he put this ring on her finger, it was a promise to her that, no matter what their future life would bring, no matter what difficulties they would face, they would do it together. He would be right beside her, every step of the way.”

Releasing her hand, Barry brushed the back of his fingers along the curve of her cheek. “Iris, I know this isn’t what you wanted. I doubt you ever wanted to pretend to be engaged to someone you – well, at any rate, I know this can hardly be the life you would have chosen. And I know I should say I regret the last few weeks, but that would be a lie. Still, if you don’t want to do this, I understand. 

“But if you do want to do this, then this is my promise. I don’t know how long this is going to last. But however long we’re doing this, however long our pretend engagement goes on, then we’re in it together. I’ll be right beside you. Every step of the way.”

She didn’t trust herself to speak. Staring at the ring he held out to her, Iris nodded slowly, holding her hand out to him. As he slid the ring onto her finger, she whispered, “We’re in this together.”


	12. Chapter 12

Everything that happened after Barry slipped the ring onto her finger passed in something of a blur. Iris would later remember being led into the living room to find Mason talking to Barry’s parents. She felt simply dreadful as the Allens stood and embraced her as though she really were about to become a member of the family. Even though they knew as well as anyone it was a lie. It was enough to bring a tear to her eye.

“You must be so disappointed,” she whispered as she stood between them. “This can’t be what you wanted for your son. I’m sure you hoped for someone better for him than a publicist pretending to be his fiancé.”

Henry looked over at her in mild surprise. “Of course we’re not disappointed in you, Iris. Or in him.”

“That’s right, sweetheart,” Nora said, wrapping Iris in her arms. “I won’t pretend that we could have expected any of this. But all we want is for Barry to be happy. As unorthodox as it is, Barry’s been happy these last few weeks, with you. We’ve seen how you make him smile. That’s all we can ask for.”

Iris looked over Nora’s shoulder and caught Barry’s eye, as he stood on the other side of the room. A slight frown marred his brow when he saw her lower lip tremble with suppressed emotion. Then, as if proving his mother’s point, he winked at her, offering her a small, secret smile. Almost against her will, she found her mouth widening slightly in return.

He had been happy with her, those last few weeks. Their relationship wasn’t real, but perhaps that afforded them a measure of freedom to be themselves together. When it was just the two of them, she knew Barry didn’t have to pretend to be someone else. With her, he didn’t have anything to prove.

She would think of that smile over the next hour, as Mason lingered to talk about their next steps. Her life had spun so outside of her control ever since meeting Barry that she barely winced when Mason suggested the two of them move in together. She knew she couldn’t possibly stay in her apartment – her father had already expressed concerns about the lack of security at her place, ever since she became a public figure. When their fake engagement was made public, he would absolutely insist that she move somewhere with greater security. 

So when Barry agreed in a soft voice that she could move in with him for a while – he had a guest room, after all – Iris didn’t even bother to protest. She simply offered a small nod. 

“Which brings me to my next point,” Mason began. “I know it’s a sensitive subject, but I need to know if you’ve had any past relationships or indiscretions. Anything like that I should be aware of.”

Iris felt herself flush. “I really don’t think my boss should be asking me those kinds of questions,” she bit off in a cold voice.

Mason threw her a level stare, though his voice was not unkind when he replied, “I’m not asking as your boss. I’m asking as your publicist. If there’s anything that might come to light later, I need to know about it now. As you know, it’s better to get in front of it than to be taken by surprise.”

“Oh,” she breathed, forcing herself not to look in Barry’s direction. “Um – no. I mean, I’ve had – relationships before. Of course. But, um, n-no pictures or – or scandalous breakups or anything.”

“Okay. Good. Well, if you think of anything, let me know,” Mason said, rising to his feet. “Now I’ve taken up enough of your time. We can iron out the details of your employment later.”

“Sure. I look forward to it,” she muttered. Just as soon as she finished spontaneously combusting from humiliation.

As the door closed behind Mason, Henry asked, “So, when does your dad come back into town? We should all go out to dinner sometime. We don’t want people to think that we’re not overjoyed by your engagement.”

Iris sighed. Just when she thought things couldn’t get any worse.

* * *

“So, are you really okay with this?” Barry asked as he parked in front of his place. “I know this is a lot to take in all at once.”

She nodded. “It’s fine,” she said in a soft voice. It certainly wasn’t what she’d ever expected. And, given that she realized now that she had feelings for him, it was incredibly dangerous to her heart. 

But she couldn’t pretend that she had no choice in the matter. She did. She could stop this at any time. She always could. So if her life had spun out of her control, then she only had herself to blame. There was no point in being churlish about it now.

Except it occurred to her that perhaps he had regrets. He’d invited her to stay with him out of kindness, but it wasn’t like he loved her. Pretending to be her boyfriend on a short-term basis was one thing. But having a pretend fiancé – one who lived with him, no less – would undoubtedly put a serious crimp in his style. What if he realized in a few days that he’d made a serious mistake?

“What about you?” she asked, not reaching for the door handle. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?” Forcing a smile, she added lightly, feigning a laugh, “What happens when you get bored with me?”

Barry tilted his head to the side and watched her silently. “Bored with you?” he asked in a voice barely above a whisper. “Are you kidding?”

Iris felt herself blush. “Yeah, of course!” she agreed. Then, as an awkward silence fell between them, she shifted in her seat. “Maybe. I don’t know.” She wished he would say something, but she was equally afraid of what that would be. “It’s not – I just wonder – you could have any girl you want, I think. When you decide you want something real, I don’t want to be in your way.”

He looked away from her, and she wondered what he was thinking as he stared out the windshield, a muscle working in his jaw. She watched him in silence until he turned to her and said, “Let’s go inside. There’s something I want to show you.”

“What’s that?” she asked, reaching for the door handle.

Barry paused, one foot out the door, and shot her a look over his shoulder. She felt her pulse race and her body grow warm when she saw he desire in his eyes as his gaze swept over her. “I asked you to show me your fantasy, Princess. It’s time I show you mine.”


	13. Chapter 13

Iris followed Barry in and paused in the doorway to place her purse on the table by the door before kicking off her shoes. While she was occupied, Barry disappeared into the back room, only to return a moment later with two strips of fabric thrown over his arm. Iris recognized one as a tie as he gave it a considering look and then tossed it aside. Sliding the other one between his hands, he stepped forward and asked, “Ready?”

Realizing what he intended, she gave a little nod. Then, raising her hand to brush the soft fabric with her fingertips, she asked as he wrapped the silk scarf across her eyes, “Where’d you get this?”

“It’s one of the scarves you had Harry buy for me to take on stage,” he replied as he secured it with a knot. He nipped her earlobe with his teeth before grabbing her hand and giving it a slight squeeze as he pulled her gently into the room. With only the slightest hesitation, she allowed him to guide her forward. “Do you trust me, Iris?” he asked, caressing her cheek with one palm.

“I trust you.”

“Then don’t move.” After a second’s pause, he leaned in and murmured, “You’re always so busy thinking about our next step. Don’t think. Just feel.”

Iris braced herself for whatever he planned next, but, much to her surprise, nothing happened. Her shoulders slumped in mild disappointment as she strained her hearing, listening to the soft sounds of him moving about the room. Then he went quiet, and she turned slowly, seeking any hint of his location in the room.

She sucked in a sharp breath and jumped when she felt the sudden brush of his hand, his fingertips tickling the sensitive skin just above the hard ridge of her collarbone. “You didn’t think I’d abandoned you, did you?” he breathed in her ear as he pressed a soft kiss against its curve.

Iris let out an unsteady laugh. “I wasn’t sure,” she admitted lifting a hand to the silk scarf to stroke it gently again.

Barry grabbed her hand and pressed a kiss against the back of her palm before pressing it against his chest. She could feel the strong, steady beat of his heart. “See? I’m still here,” he murmured before lifting her hand and pressing a kiss against each of her fingertips. When he let go of her hand, she let it fall to her side and almost held her breath as she waited to see what he would do next.

The next thing she felt was Barry’s hand stroke the back of her neck. His hand warmed her hip through the fabric of her sundress as he rested it there for a moment. He brushed a kiss against her forehead. Then his fingers were on the straps of her dress, slipping them off her shoulders. She sucked in a sharp breath when she felt it fall, pooling at her feet.

Taking her hand, he guided her a step forward and then the torture began in earnest. She jumped when something cold swept across the curve of her chest, just above her bra, followed immediately by the warmth of his mouth. “Barry,” she breathed, reaching for him, but her hands clutched only air.

“No cheating,” he chided her, grabbing her hands and gently pulling them behind her back. She felt a soft length of fabric as he looped it loosely around her wrist and guided the ends into her hands. “Here. Hold this.”

“You aren’t going to tie me up?” she asked in mild surprise as she did as he asked. When he’d brought her hands behind her, she had assumed that was his intent.

Barry swept her hair aside and kissed the side of her neck. “No,” he admitted, and she shuddered at the coarse brush of his five o’clock shadow against her skin.

She didn’t know whether to be disappointed. “Why not?” she asked, then caught her breath when he pressed his palm against her stomach and pulled her back against him. When she flattened her hands, she could feel the hard ridge of his erection against her palms. 

Iris wondered if she’d ever heard a more erotic sound in her life than the husky sound of his chuckle, a little strained from desire, in her ear. “Because I trust you.” She felt him drop to his knees behind her, pressing a kiss against the small of her back. “And also because right now, I know you feel like your life is out of your control. But you have more control than you think.”

She felt him move away, and then it happened again – Iris jumped at the brush of an ice cube against her hip and moaned when his mouth followed, warming her chilled skin. Iris moaned his name again, tempted to drop the fabric loosely wrapped around her wrists. But she held on as he continued his teasing. He seemed to know how to touch her where she least expected it – sometimes with his hand, sometimes with his lips. His teeth. His tongue. Or even a soft brush of his breath against her skin.

His hands were gentle when they swept her underwear down her legs. He pressed a kiss against the back of one knee. Scraped his teeth against her side, just below her ribcage. Traced the curve of her hip with his tongue.

He lifted one leg, bracing it over his shoulder, and stroked her between her folds. Iris moaned when his tongue joined his hands; fighting back an inappropriate giggle when the thought hit her that he knew how to play her every bit as well as he played his guitar.

But just as she pressed her hips forward, trying to widen herself for him, he pulled away again and she let out a soft sound of protest. Her breath was coming in short gasps of desire when she managed, “So if I’m in control, does that mean you have to do what I say?”

His mouth pressed against her inner thigh, she felt his breath more than she heard his soft laugh. “Anything you want is yours. I thought you knew that by now.”

She wasn’t sure where she was in the room, so she said a little prayer that she wouldn’t fall and kill herself as she took a small step back. “Then I want you inside me.”

Iris didn’t hear him move, but his hands lifted her easily, holding her against him as she wrapped her legs around his waist. She could feel his erection rub against her as he carried her a few steps forward. Then she felt the smooth fabric of the couch arm under her as he braced her weight and stroked her with his fingers to make sure she was wet and ready for him.

He lifted her hips and entered her in one smooth motion. Iris leaned forward, wrapping her arm around his neck and holding tight as he thrust into her. The knot on the blindfold somehow came undone, but Iris didn’t notice as the long length of silk floated to the ground. Instead, she squeezed her eyes shut, pressing her cheek against Barry’s neck as she met his thrust with something that felt almost like desperation.

She wanted to remember this moment. No matter what happened next, she wanted to remember how it felt to have him inside her. 

Barry’s breath was hot against her skin as he bent to lick a bead of sweat off her neck. His thrusts were hard but his hands were gentle as they swept down her back and lifted her against him.

Iris was on the edge of her orgasm when Barry stopped. Her moan of protest was swallowed by his lips as he kissed her, his mouth tender against hers. He kissed her like he meant it. He kissed her like he loved her.

When Iris came, she was sobbing his name.

* * *

“Hey,” Iris said on a yawn as she crept into the living room and found Barry sitting on the couch, strumming his guitar. 

His hand stilled and he threw her a guilty look. “I didn’t wake you, did I?” he asked in concern. He’d left her sleeping in the guest room earlier, but after finding his own sleep too elusive, he’d decided to work on his new song instead.

“Nope,” she reassured him as she climbed behind him on the couch. He shifted to give her room as she wrapped her arms around him and pressed her cheek against his back. “Play something for me,” she murmured, and he felt her stifle a yawn as she curled into him.

He felt her breaths, slow and steady against his back, and wondered if she’d drifted off to sleep again as he started to play. _“And I’d give up forever to touch you, cuz I know that you feel me somehow…”_

He discovered she wasn’t asleep when Iris snorted and jabbed him in the ribs with one finger. “Very funny,” she drawled. “Play me one of your songs. Something you wrote.”

Barry chuckled. “Well now I’m nervous,” he joked. “What if you don’t like it?”

“I like most of your songs!” she protested, climbing out from behind him to curl up next to him on the couch.

He snorted. “Oh, most of them? I’m touched. I thought you weren’t much of a fan of my work.”

Barry realized his mistake a second too late when Iris tilted her head back and cracked open one eye. “What gives you that idea?”

Stalling for time, Barry shifted and ran a hand through his hair as he scrambled for a lie. “Oh. Um. Well, you didn’t seem to be a fan the first time we met, so I guess I assumed –”

She shifted one shoulder in a pale imitation of a shrug as her eye closed again. “I wasn’t a fan because you were an arrogant jerk. It had nothing to do with your music.”

He couldn’t suppress his grin. “Oh, well, that makes me feel better,” he drawled. She made a tiny sound as she rested her head against the side of his thigh, and he reached down and gently brushed a lock of hair off her cheek with one finger.

“Play something for me,” she mumbled again. “I want to hear what you’re writing.”

Barry started to play softly as she drifted off to sleep. He didn’t sing the words, telling himself he didn’t want to keep her awake. In reality, he didn’t want her to know that the song was about her. For a little over an hour, he continued working on the tune, wanting it to be just right. When his eyelids grew too heavy to continue, he put his guitar aside and looked at the woman sleeping next to him.

Moving slowly so as not to wake her, he rose to his feet and gently swept her into his arms. He felt her curl up against his chest, and he ducked to press a kiss against the top of her head.

“I’m -wake,” Iris mumbled sleepily.

He smiled. “I can tell. Come on, sweetheart. It’s time for bed.”

She mumbled something else, but all he could make out was “-pose – sing.”

Carrying her into the guest bedroom, he sang in a voice barely above a whisper, “Take my hand, take my whole life too. For I can't help falling in love with you.”

He continued to hum as he tucked her into bed, but her hand clutched at his t-shirt. “Stay,” she breathed.

Barry smiled as he crawled onto the mattress behind her, pulling her against him and burrowing his face in her hair. “Oh, Iris. I’m not going anywhere.”

In the darkness, Barry wrapped an arm around her and held her close. He knew he couldn’t tell her the truth. She undoubtedly thought that what they’d done in the living room had been his fantasy, but the truth was, it was this. Holding her in his arms. Pretending she was really his.

* * *

Iris was somewhat surprised to find Barry in bed with her the next morning when she awoke, though she remembered asking him to stay with her the night before. He was stretched out on his stomach, his arms splayed out on either side. With a grin, she leaned over and pressed a kiss against one shoulder before slowly climbing out of bed, not wanting to wake him.

As she’d drifted off to sleep the previous evening, she’d thought about his words. She had more control in this situation than she thought. Pulling her hair into a messy ponytail, she went in search of Barry’s laptop. Mason had said they’d talk about the terms of her employment later. Well, it was time that she told him exactly what those terms would be.

She was just hitting send on the e-mail when she heard the door to the guest bedroom open and Barry strolled into the room. Desire pooled in her belly when she looked at him over her shoulder and saw him wearing only a pair of sweatpants, his hair rumpled from sleep. 

She almost suggested that they return to bed, but she was still trying to make sense of their new situation. Iris glanced at the ring on her finger and watched as it sparkled in the morning light. Her physical relationship with Barry had made sense when they were simply faking a romantic relationship during the day but could let their guard down at night. There had been clearly defined lines. Rules. 

Only now that they were pretending to be engaged. She was supposed to move in with him. What were the rules now?

Barry stepped up behind her and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Morning. Hope I didn’t keep you up too late last night with my playing.”

She smiled and shook her head. “No, it was fine. Do you usually work on songs in the middle of the night?”

He shrugged and headed into the kitchen to grab some coffee. “Only when I get inspired. I’ll try to keep it down so it doesn’t disturb you. Hungry?”

“Sure. How’s the album coming?” she asked, following him into the kitchen. At his responding groan, she held up her hands. “Okay, I get the message. Consider the subject changed.”

“So what were you working on?” he asked as he pulled some eggs, butter, and milk out of the refrigerator.

Iris grabbed a loaf of bread and dropped some slices into the toaster. “I was sending Mason a message,” she explained, rooting around in the refrigerator in a search for orange juice. At Barry’s questioning look, she explained, “Thanks to my newfound notoriety, I will never be able to be a publicist behind the scenes again. I don’t have enough experience to be one of the big names in the company. So…I told him I should become one of the faces of it.”

She shifted her weight back and forth, unconsciously betraying her anxiety. “I mean, when we let it be known that I’m one of his clients, it’ll not only provide cover for you, but, you know…a month ago, I was a nobody. Now enough people online are talking about me that my entire life is like a runaway train.” She grinned at him to show him that she wasn’t blaming him for the turn of events.

Then, with a shrug, she pulled the rapidly burning bread out of the toaster. “Until this pretend engagement is over, he’ll be managing my image. I might as well use it to drum up some more business.”

“And when all this is done?” he asked, scraping some scrambled eggs onto her plate.

Iris sighed. “When all this is done, assuming my name fades somewhat into obscurity, I can be a public handler. After all, nobody will know what new clients are going through than someone who’s been there. And people who are used to dealing with fame will be more likely to listen to someone who know what it’s like.” She grimaced. “Even if my fame is on a much smaller scale. And only because people think that I somehow landed a big music star. Or nearly landed, at least.”

Barry made a soft sound and the two of them fell silent as they ate their breakfast. As they put their dishes in the sink, however, he pointed out in a quiet voice, “You know, dating me may have gotten your name in the papers, but I’m not the reason it stays there.” When frowned at him, he explained, “Take it from someone who’s been in this business a while. It’s easy to get your name in the papers, but the best publicist on the planet can’t keep it there if they don’t have anything to work with. It takes that extra something. That extra spark. And I didn’t give you that.”

Iris turned and put her hand on his chest. To distract him from her blush, she teased him, “Why, Barry. Are you complimenting me?”

“It’s been known to happen,” he joked lightly in return. Then he lifted his hand to cover hers, stroking the band of her engagement ring with his thumb. “So…on that note. Have you thought about how we announce our pretend engagement?”

Her gaze dropped to the diamond ring. “Ah…I hadn’t really come up with a plan yet.” She’d been trying not to think about it too much, actually. In a desperate voice, she suggested, “Social media post?” Even as she said the words, she knew it was a terrible idea.

He shook his head. “Not my style. I don’t really post about my personal life on social media; nobody would believe it. In my experience, fans are more likely to believe something if they think they’ve caught on to something. Particularly if it was something I was trying to keep under wraps. Then they’ll do our work for us.”

She tilted his head to the side. “What did you have in mind?”

Barry grinned. “My afternoon is free. How about a date?”


	14. Chapter 14

It was a beautiful day, and Iris kept her hand in Barry’s as they walked through the park and headed to some nearby shops to do some browsing. He seemed pretty confident that, regardless of the mundanity of the tasks, someone would take their picture, and Iris had perused enough articles about him to agree. 

As they strolled down the sidewalk together, occupying themselves with idle chitchat, Iris ran her thumb along the curve of her engagement band. Still unused to the sight of it on her finger, she found herself sneaking peaks at it on occasion, as though needing the frequent reminder that it was real. Even if her relationship wasn’t.

She hummed to herself – a song that she’d had in her head all morning though she didn’t know why. Perhaps it had been in a dream. _“For I can’t help falling in love with you…”_

“What’s that?”

She grimaced, hoping he hadn’t heard her sing. “Ah…nothing. Just a song I’ve got stuck in my head,” she explained before abruptly changing the subject.

A while later, she threw a glance at her date as he laughed at something she said. He never looked more adorable than he did when his eyes were crinkled with laughter, and she wanted to stroke one finger down the lines in his cheeks caused by his smile. “Hey, want some ice cream?” he asked, guiding her towards another door.

“Do I – we just had breakfast!” she protested weakly as he propelled her inside.

“Yeah, but it’s never too early for ice cream.” At his expectant look, she shook her head and declined the offer of ice cream for brunch. Barry, on the other hand, didn’t hold back. His cone was loaded with three scoops – fudge ripple, German chocolate, and mint chocolate.

As they walked out of the ice cream parlor, Iris eyed him askance and muttered, “I don’t know where you store all that.”

He grinned and lifted an eyebrow at her. “Good metabolism.” 

Before he could say anything else, two girls rushed towards them, startling them with a shriek of excitement.

“Oh, my god! I _knew_ it was you! I can’t believe it!” the taller of them blurted in such excitement that all the words nearly ran together.

“We are just – we’re huge fans. I’ve been to three of your shows and I even named my pet rabbit after you! Oh, god, I probably shouldn’t have told you that.”

Barry chuckled, clutching Iris’s hand tighter when she would have stepped away to give him a private moment with his fans. “Your rabbit? Really? I’m flattered. So what’d you name him?”

The girl in question looked star struck, her face beet red, and seemed incapable of responding so her friend offered, “Bunny Allen. She named him Bunny Allen.”

“That’s a great name,” Iris replied, throwing Barry a quick look that promised that he wasn’t going to live that down any time soon.

“Hey, we hate to bother you. But could we get a selfie?” the taller one asked, holding up her phone with a hopeful smile.

Iris stepped forward, ready to offer to take the photo for them, but the other one shook her head and waved her back. “No, no! With both of you! We’ve been reading about the two of you ever since your first date. You guys are totally adorable! Nobody will believe us when we tell them we actually met you, though.”

“Oh. Um. Sure,” Iris replied awkwardly. The idea that she – and her relationship with Barry – was garnering fans of her own was still difficult to process. Without thinking, she lifted her hand to brush her hair off her face as she shifted closer to Barry, and she saw the second that the ring on her hand was noticed by their two companions. Blushing, Iris tucked her hand behind her leg as though to hide the ring. She’d expected to be seen wearing it, but she wasn’t sure she was ready yet to answer questions about her fictional engagement.

“I – oh my god,” the shorter one breathed, exchanging a frantic glance with her friend. Barry took advantage of their surprise and gestured them forward for the selfie. He wrapped his arm around Iris’s shoulders as the girls got their phones ready, but it took a second for everyone to jockey into position.

Throwing Barry a sly smile, Iris gave in to temptation. His ice cream cone was only an inch away, and she found it did look good, after all. So while he offered to take the actual photo, she leaned forward and took a bite of his ice cream cone.

Her teeth had just sunk into a chunk of chocolate when she heard his affronted gasp. “Are you – are you _eating my ice cream_ , Miss West?”

Shooting him a look out of the corner of her eye, she sucked the chunk of chocolate into her mouth and leaned back. “Mwo,” she lied around the ice cream in question.

Barry was trying to look scandalized, but the corners of his mouth kept twitching. “Of course you know what this means, don’t you?” With her own snort of laughter, Iris took a step back and shook her head. He didn’t even take his eyes off her as he followed. Instead, he thrust his remaining ice cream cone towards their fans and then grabbed Iris and pulled her forward. “I have to take it back.”

Wrapping his arms around her, Barry lifted Iris off her feet and kissed her, his mouth hot and hungry under hers. Iris gasped at the warmth of his tongue against hers, melting against him as she ran her hands in his hair, deepening the kiss.

“You taste good,” he murmured against her lips, putting her back on her feet but then going in for another kiss. His teeth nibbled at the full curve of her lower lip. “Like mint chocolate chip. My mint chocolate chip, in fact.”

“I decided I wanted ice cream after all,” she replied unrepentantly, kissing him again. 

Her kiss swallowed his laugh. “I love you, you know.”

It was the first time either of them had said the words, she realized the moment she heard them. Iris knew it was for their companions’ benefit, but she wished it wasn’t just an act. Still, his words reminded her of where they were and what they were doing. 

Though her heart twisted, she forced a smile as she murmured, “I love you too.” In the presence of Barry’s fans, she could tell the truth and pretend it was a lie.

At her words, one of his fans made a soft sound, almost like a sigh. Unable to meet Barry’s eyes, for fear that he would see the truth in hers, she ducked her head and feigned embarrassment. “Ah…right. The selfie. Sorry about that.”

“No, no!” the taller one interjected. “It’s fine!”

“We don’t mind!” the other one added as she scooted in front of them and held out the camera for the requested pictures.

Later, as they walked back to Barry’s place, he lifted her and to his mouth and brushed a kiss against her fingertips. “You did great back there by the way.”

She glanced away, pretending to be distracted by a young couple walking a dog nearby. “Yeah? I guess I could have been an actress. If I didn’t like my life of anonymity so much, at least,” she said in a tone approximating humor.

By the time she got up the nerve to look at him, Barry was looking away. “Yeah, you probably could,” he agreed lightly. “Though we’re going to have to have a talk about you stealing my ice cream,” he added, shooting her a quick grin.

Iris laughed. “Sure thing…Bunny Allen.”

“See…now…wait a minute!” he spluttered, chasing after her as she dropped his hand and darted away, screaming the new nickname over her shoulder. “That is not going to be my new nickname!”

* * *

They were almost back to Barry’s when he suggested that they run to her old apartment and grab some necessities. If she was going to move in with him, there would be some things she would undoubtedly need. With only a small stab of trepidation, she agreed. Though she understood the reasons why she should move in with him, it still seemed like a bad idea, given the feelings she was trying to hide.

But there was no way she could explain as much to him, so she followed him to his car and let him escort her to her place, as he suggested she might appreciate the help carrying her things. When they reached her apartment, she turned her attention to gathering her things. 

She was carrying her bag of toiletries to the living room when she found Barry standing by her desk, perusing the contents of a folder. She didn’t know what it was until she got closer and saw the clippings from gossip rags. He was looking through the _Relationships_ folder.

“This is…a lot of research,” he remarked mildly as he skimmed another article.

Iris blushed and gently took it from him. She didn’t know why she was embarrassed for him to find her research, but she was. Perhaps because this folder had become rather more comprehensive than was strictly necessary, under the circumstances. “I take my job seriously.” After a momentary hesitation, she amended, “Well, took it seriously, at least. I guess it’s not really my job anymore.” Pulling her folders together, she slipped them into her bag, figuring she should pass them off to Mason when she got the chance. 

“You know that’s mostly crap, right?” he asked, shoving his hands into his pockets. “I mean, most of it isn’t true.”

She shrugged. “It doesn’t really matter. It’s all about what people believe.” At least, that’s how it began.

“Yeah, but –”

They were interrupted by the ringing of her phone, and she pulled it out of her pocket while he turned away. Her stomach twisted as she saw the name on her screen and hit the button to answer. With everything that had happened, she realized there was one call she’d forgotten to make. “Dad! You know, I was going to call you –”

* * *

Later that evening, Iris was curled up in bed, her laptop open on her lap. Barry had left for the recording studio a few hours before, and she’d stayed busy to keep her mind off either her pretend engagement or the dinner she and Barry were scheduled to have with her father when he returned from his trip the following evening.

But she’d finished her book, and television wasn’t holding her interest this evening. So it was time to see what people were saying about her pretend engagement – even if it wasn’t her job to track that sort of thing anymore.

It didn’t take long for her to find the pictures the fans had taken that afternoon, particularly since the fans had tagged both Iris’s and Barry’s social media accounts when they were posted. Along with the selfies, they had apparently taken several pictures of the kiss. With her hands speared in Barry’s hair, her engagement ring was clearly on display.

With a combination of curiosity and dread, Iris scrolled down to see the comments.

_“OH MY GOOOOOOOOOOOOOD!”_

_“This makes me so happy! I ship these two so hard.”_

_“Congrats to the new couple!”_

_“Damn. That kiss tho.”_

_“I’m so jealous!!!!! Are they as gorgeous in real life as they are in pictures?”_

_“Wait, she stole a bite of his ice cream cone? What a selfish bitch. She’s probably trapped him into marriage.”_

_“She’s so lucky. I DRINK COFFEE! WHY COULDN’T IT BE ME?”_

_“He couldn’t afford a bigger ring? Doesn’t he make a lot of money? I’d be pissed if I were her.”_

_“I would kill for him to kiss me like that.”_

_“I would kill for HER to kiss me like that.”_

_“They love each other so much! I want to go to their wedding!”_

_“Is it weird to be in love with their relationship?”_

_“Hope he’s getting a prenup.”_

_“This has to be fake. Real couples don’t kiss in public like that. Gross.”_

_“I was just thinking about them yesterday and now I can’t stop screaming! I am so happy right now!”_

_“Another relationship doomed to fail. Just wait to see what happens when he goes on tour. How long until he cheats on her?”_

_“When is the wedding date??? I have to know!!!”_

_“Gorgeous!”_

_“I hope he does a show near me someday!”_

_“Is it just me or did he look better with his last girlfriend? They looked happier together somehow.”_

_“A beautiful couple! Best wishes!”_

_“Can’t wait for the wedding!”_

_“They look so happy, and their babies are going to be BEAUTIFUL!”_

_“Ugh. They’ve been dating HOW long? She sounds like a gold digger. He could definitely do better.”_

Having had just about enough of both the good and the bad, Iris reached for the laptop, ready to close the lid and call it a night. She would have been touched by the kind words if her relationship wasn’t the lie that the detractors assumed it was. But then another string of comments caught her eye.

_“WTF? Barry just blocked me! What’d I do???”_

_“I can’t believe these idiots are throwing fits in his mentions and then whining that he’s actually blocking them. Suffer!”_

_“Wow. Did you guys see Barry’s recent post? He’s blocking assholes left and right today! I liked him before but I love him now! HE LOVES HER SO MUCH!”_

Curious, she clicked on Barry’s page only to see that he’d pinned a new tweet. _“Thanks for the well wishes, everyone! But to the bullies who think I give a shit about your opinion about my engagement…guess what? I don’t. I love Iris. If you tag either of us in your bullshit, you’ll be blocked. I don’t want fans like you.”_

Iris reached for her cell phone, wondering if she should tell Barry that it was a bad idea to alienate fans on behalf of a fake engagement. But she prevaricated as she pulled up his name. What would she expect him to do if the engagement were real? And even though it wasn’t, the whole point was that his fans weren’t supposed to know that. Also, this was exactly the kind of thing someone with the image they were trying to craft for him would do in this situation. 

Though she knew he might have done it for just that reason, Iris was a little touched as she put the phone aside and turned off the light.

A few hours later, she awoke as she felt the bed sag beside her and reached out to Barry as he crawled under the covers. “Mmm…babe? What time is it?” she managed to ask.

“Just after four. I didn’t mean to wake you,” he replied, pressing a kiss against her forehead. “Go back to sleep.” 

Resting her head on his shoulder, she curled up against him. She fought off sleep long enough to ask, “The album?”

Iris felt Barry’s shoulder shift under her cheek as he heaved a sigh. “It’s finished.” She heard a hint of regret in his voice, but she drifted back to sleep before she could ask him the reason for it.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

Hot water beat against Barry’s back as he lifted Iris’s leg, massaging her thigh as he sucked a droplet off the side of his neck. He smiled against her skin and kissed a path down to her breast, sucking her nipple between his teeth. Lifting her, he was about to slide inside her when he heard the front door open and Cisco call out his name.

They froze, their gazes locked, and Barry almost tripped over the side of the bathtub when he scrambled to grab a towel. “I didn’t know he was coming over! Did you know he was coming over?” Iris blurted as she raced to pull on her jeans, her skin still damp from the shower.

“I may have forgotten,” he grumbled. “Look, I’ll go distract him –”

“You can’t go out there like that,” she hissed, her gaze traveling to his erection. Her voice grew muffled as she pulled on her shirt. “I’ll distract him. You come out when you’re…decent.” Before he could protest, she darted out the bathroom door.

Barry had to turn the water on cold and stand under the spray for a few seconds until his blood cooled. Then he threw on his clothes and followed her into the living room. As he walked in, he heard Iris laugh. She caught his eye and grinned as she joked, “Well, that just confirms it. I always knew Barry was a bit of a dork. But at least he’s a cute dork.”

“When she says ‘dork’ that’s code for ‘rock god,’” Barry drawled, glowering at Cisco when he met his eye. He saw his friend take in his damp hair before his eyes widened with understanding. “Ahhh…you know, Iris and I were just talking about her new living arrangements. I was thinking, maybe we should rethink your open door policy, at least as long as she’s living here.”

“Good idea,” Barry grumbled as he took a seat. He loved Cisco like a brother, but he’d never wanted to strangle anyone as much as he did at that moment.

Though he would come to rethink that a few minutes later when Harry strolled through the front door. “Oh, good. You’re here. Now that your album is done, we need to talk about next steps. There’s a lot to do, and we don’t have a lot of time before your tour starts.” He tossed some photos on the table in front of Barry and continued without missing a beat, “Album covers. Anyway, I’m setting up some press for next week. It’s been suggested you bring Iris along. I think they want to ask some questions about your engagement.”

“Oh!” Iris murmured in mild surprise. “Well –”

“We should talk about that, by the way, since you are about to go on tour,” Harry continued, pouring himself a cup of coffee. “Do you know how long the engagement will last?” Not bothering to add milk or sugar to his cup, he took a sip.

Barry shot Iris a quick look, but she was studying a photograph she had grabbed off the stack in front of him. Her head was bowed as she studied it, so he couldn’t read the expression on her face. “I don’t think we’re quite sure,” he offered weakly.

Harry grunted. “Well, we should probably talk about it, even though I know you probably don’t want to hear it. After all, I know you want to reform your image, but that’s kind of a nebulous concept, isn’t it? How will you know that your image has been sufficiently reformed that you can call off your engagement? You can’t possibly wait until you get some sort of acting role. Who knows how long that can take?”

“Harry –” Barry began, his voice low and irritable.

“Look, I know you don’t want to face that. But when we decided that you should hire a publicist to change your image, I don’t think we expected it to lead to a fake engagement right before you go on tour. I understand you’re looking to change your image in the future, but I get paid to worry about your present as well.

“I’ve heard your new album, and it’s fantastic. Maybe your best to date. But there are so many love songs on that album, and you know how many of your fans will want to imagine that you’re singing to them when you’re on stage. I’m just worried that getting engaged right before the tour – even if it isn’t real – might have been a bad idea. Not to mention the fans you’ve been alienating online.”

Barry glowered at him. “If they’re going to be rude or insulting towards Iris, I don’t need their support,” he said firmly.

“But the engagement isn’t real, and –” Harry began.

“Harry –” Barry tried again in a warning tone, looking towards Iris.

He sighed heavily. “It’s not like I’m saying anything we don’t already know. Everyone in this room is well aware of the situation. Particularly Iris. And you’re going to be on tour for so long, and you know how these things can be. Don’t you think –”

Barry watched as Iris flicked a glance his way, glancing away before he could read her thoughts on her face. However, in that moment, he had the impression that her eyes were thoughtful and sad – but perhaps he was just projecting his own feelings, he supposed. She didn’t look his way again as she excused herself to finish getting dressed.

“We’re not calling off the engagement,” he said firmly, and he saw Iris throw a glance at him over her shoulder as she left the room. “Not until we’re ready. My fans will just have to deal with it.”

* * *

“Barry…tell me you know what you’re doing,” Cisco said quietly a few minutes later, after Harry stepped outside to take a call.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he lied as he slid a photo across the table in front of his friend. “What do you think of this one?”

Cisco barely gave it a glance before dismissing Barry’s attempt at a distraction. “Well, first you pretend to date her, and it’s pretty obvious something more is actually going on there between you two. Then you pretend to get engaged but she actually moves in. Pretty soon, you’ll be christening your real children at your pretend wedding ceremony. And I know you’re irritated with Harry for what he said, but he wasn’t wrong. There is a chance this engagement could alienate fans and hurt your career, and it’s Harry’s job to worry about that. But I’m your friend, and it’s my job to worry about you. So tell me you know what you’re doing.”

“I know what I’m doing,” he promised. When Cisco hardly looked mollified, he tried again, his tone growing more defensive. “What? I know what I’m doing, okay?”

His friend sighed. “I hope so.” Glancing at another photo, he shook his head. “These are all terrible, and I _forbid_ you to use them as your album cover. Give me those.”

* * *

“I have to take this,” Iris said, glancing at her phone. “Play nice, okay?”

“What?” Joe asked, giving his daughter an innocent look.

“He always gives my dates a hard time,” she explained to Barry, rolling her eyes good-naturedly in her dad’s direction.

“I thought you two weren’t really dating.”

Iris wisely ignored his remark. “Play nice. I mean it!” she reiterated sternly as she put the phone from her ear and ran from the room, leaving Joe and Barry to stare at each other in uncomfortable silence. 

Barry and Iris had arrived for dinner earlier that evening, and though Joe had been cordial to his daughter’s pretend fiancé, he was far from warm. Barry didn’t have any illusions that the older man in front of him was thrilled with their unusual business arrangement. 

“Is this the part where you warn me that I’ll have to answer to you if I hurt your daughter?” Barry tried to joke.

Joe’s eyebrows lifted slightly. “Do I need to?”

It wasn’t the response he’d expected. Tapping his fingers against the table in a silent song, he tried again, deciding to confront the situation head on. “I know you probably don’t like what we’re doing –”

“Having my daughter’s personal life splashed all over the Internet so some rock star with a chip on his shoulder can redeem his image? Why would I have a problem with that?”

“I wouldn’t say I have a –” Barry began, but the older man cut him off.

“But since you asked, no. I don’t want to see my daughter get hurt.”

Barry shook his head. “I would never do anything to hurt Iris,” he vowed quietly.

Joe snorted. “I’m not worried about you. I’m worried about what happens when one of your fans gets angry that she’s in the way of a relationship they created in their own minds.”

Thrown a little by the implication that Joe knew Barry would never be able to break Iris’s heart, it took him a second to respond. “I understand, but I do have security, you know.”

“And what happens when your business arrangement ends? You get to go back to the life you knew before. She doesn’t. She’ll still be in the public eye, still possibly a target. Have you discussed what you’ll do then?” 

They hadn’t, and Barry grimaced as he looked away. “We haven’t really worked out the details, but I’ll do whatever it takes to keep her safe.”

“For as long as it takes?” 

Barry nodded, but when he could see that it wasn’t enough, he repeated firmly, “For as long as it takes.”

Joe’s eyes narrowed as he sat back in his chair, the sharp edge of his animosity fading a bit. Silence fell between them, and then Joe commented in a much lighter tone than he’d used previously, “Did Iris tell you that I used to be a detective?”

“Uh…yeah. Well, I guess not really,” Barry prevaricated, temporarily thrown by the change of subject. “She said you were a cop but you changed careers.”

Joe made a soft sound in the back of his throat. There was sadness in his voice when he replied softly, “I quit the force after Iris’s mother died. Francine. Her illness…it all happened so quickly. One minute, life was perfect. The next minute, she was gone and I had to figure out how to take care of our little girl on my own.” He looked away, and Barry dropped his gaze to his hands to give him time to collect himself. After a moment, he cleared his voice and continued in a firmer tone, “I never really imagined being anything other than a cop, but a few months after Francine died, I responded to a call and the situation got out of our control. When we went to apprehend the suspect, we walked right into a trap.

“Shots were fired, and my partner took one in the shoulder. Another grazed my leg. We were lucky, but I went home that night with the knowledge that it could have gone the other way. If it had, I would have left Iris on her own. I couldn’t do that to her. Iris is the most important thing in the world to me. She always has been. So I turned in my badge and decided to start my own personal security firm, instead.”

Barry wasn’t sure how to respond to that. He could tell Joe didn’t want his sympathy. He also suspected that this story was building to something. He just didn’t know what. But, not wanting to be impolite, he offered, “Isn’t that still a little dangerous? You never know what you’ll run into.”

Joe shrugged. “It’s not so bad. Of course, it helps that I mostly handle logistics and let the younger guys do all the running around. My days of running after a perp are behind me.” He chuckled. “I miss being a cop sometimes, but I don’t miss that.”

Barry made a soft sound of agreement, and then Joe continued, “Anyway, I’d had my firm for a couple of years before Iris was old enough to go with me on a job. She must have been…” he paused to reflect and then continued, “fourteen? Fifteen? And of course I can’t tell you the name of the client, but he was one of those boy band popstars that were so big back then. She begged me to let her come along. For weeks. I’m sure you know how persuasive she can be.”

Careful to keep his face devoid of expression, Barry nodded. He had no intention of stepping on that conversational landmine. 

Joe continued, his tone still light as though he was telling an innocuous anecdote, “At first, it was great. I taught her some of the basics. And, of course, she was curious about everything. The problem was, the client wasn’t who he appeared to be.

“Everyone thought he was this really stand-up, clean-cut, all-around great guy. Mid-twenties. Good looking. He had fame, fortune…married the girl he’d been dating before he made it big, and they had their first kid on the way. Really nice lady, too. I met her once. Sweet. A little naïve. Adored her husband.

“Of course, being pregnant, she couldn’t really join him on the road. But he promised to call her every night after the show, and people just ate it up. The All-American golden boy and their fairytale romance. There are a hundred stories like it.

“What the public didn’t know was that he used the time away from his wife to take a different fan to bed every night. Sometimes more than one.” He paused and shook his head. “He’d call his wife and pretend to be the doting husband five minutes before taking another girl or two to his bedroom. 

“I don’t know if his wife ever found out. The press never did. But Iris saw what was going on. I know it was just a teenage infatuation, but I think it broke her heart a little. Realizing people aren’t always who they pretend to be. Particularly in this business. I still remember the look on her face that first night, when she realized…well, if I’d known the type of person he was, I never would have brought her along on the job.”

Barry swallowed heavily. “I understand,” he replied, his voice heavy. “But sometimes people are better than they appear to be, too.”

Joe shrugged. “Maybe. I guess I’m too cynical to find out. Maybe Iris is too.” Barry looked away, his mouth twisting as he remembered the folder he’d found at Iris’s place, of all his supposed relationships. Did she really believe that he wasn’t the man the press painted him to be, or had she collected those articles to proactively convince herself he was just that? Into the silence, Joe offered softly, “Oh. And in case it does need to be said…if you hurt my daughter, you’ll have to answer to me.”

* * *

Barry was so preoccupied with his thoughts, he didn’t even realize that they’d spent the entire car ride back to his place in silence. It wasn’t until Iris asked him if he was okay as she followed him inside that he startled and looked at her. “I’m sorry,” he said softly, throwing her a sheepish smile. “I was just thinking. About work. The tour.” It was a partial truth.

She offered him a small smile in return. “I thought maybe my dad actually did say something to try to scare you away,” she admitted.

“No,” he replied, shaking his head firmly. “Although is it just me, or does everybody else seem to be against this pretend engagement of ours?”

She chuckled, though the sound lacked humor. “Well, you can’t really blame my dad for that, I suppose. He only has my best interests at heart.”

Barry took a deep breath and asked the question that had been at the back of his mind since hearing Joe’s anecdote. “Do you regret it? The engagement?”

Iris stepped in front of him, taking his hand in hers. “Do you?” she asked softly.

“No. I know what people think. And I know things will be different when I’m on tour. But while I’m gone, I promise –”

“Don’t!” she blurted. “Don’t make a promise you can’t keep. That isn’t us. That isn’t the relationship we have. You don’t need to do that. You don’t owe me any promises.”

Looking deep in her eyes, he shook his head. “But I already made you one. I told you that we were in this together. However long this lasts, I’ll be right by your side, every step of the way. It doesn’t matter if I’m here or if I’m a million miles away. The tour doesn’t change anything. I promise. All right?”

She bit her lip and nodded, and he leaned towards her. “Iris, these weeks I’ve spent with you have been…well, they’ve been…they’ve been amazing. Sometimes I think…well, I wonder…” He heaved a heavy sigh, knowing he was blowing this badly. Giving her hands a quick squeeze, he said, “I don’t have a single regret about the time we’ve spent together. Not one. And I don’t care if Harry doesn’t like it or any of my fans don’t like it or if your dad doesn’t like it. I’ve enjoyed the time I’ve spent with you more than…more than…well, more than I thought I would.” His voice trailed off lamely. He wanted to tell her how he felt. He knew he should tell her. But now that the moment was upon him, he didn’t know how.

Her smile was warm as she stepped into his arms. “Me, too,” she agreed in a voice barely above a whisper. Looping her arms around his neck, she leaned into him. “I know things will be different when you go on tour, of course. But right now, I don’t care about Harry or your fans or my dad, either. I’ve enjoyed the last few weeks with you, too.” Leaning up on her toes, she brushed a kiss against his lips. “It’s late, and we don’t have much time left before you have to leave. Come to bed, Barry Allen.”


	16. Chapter 16

In the fuzzy, warm glow of that state between sleep and awake, Iris sighed and reached out for Barry, wanting to draw close to his warmth. Her brow furrowed with dismay when the back of her hand brushed found nothing but cold cotton where his body should be. The incongruous absence was enough to pull her out of her hazy dream, and she frowned slightly as she blinked into the morning light. She glanced at Barry’s side of the bed and sighed at the smooth, untouched blankets. Now that she was awake, she remembered that he was away on tour. He hadn’t slept next to her for over a month. It would be at least another month before he did so again.

Knowing there was no chance she would get back to sleep now, Iris arose and threw on a tattered old robe she’d found in Barry’s closet. It did little to ward off the morning chill, but she imagined it smelled like him, so wearing it made her feel better. She still wasn’t used to these long days spent without him, and she wondered if she would ever grow used to them again. Ignoring the tiny voice that reminded her she would have to do so once this charade was over, Iris headed into the kitchen for some coffee before grabbing her laptop and preparing to start the day.

As she had every day for the past month, Iris immediately searched for updates on Barry’s tour. Not long ago, she would have done so to see how her PR strategy was working. Now she did so because she missed him. She would never tell him that this online perusal felt like her only tether to his present life. Although they exchanged texts during the day when he had the free time to do so and he called her before taking the stage every night, she was careful to keep her tone upbeat, her questions general, letting him drive the conversation. She tried not to let him know how much she missed him, telling herself that she didn’t want to make him feel bad for being gone so long. But, of course, she was also scared that she would say too much and betray her feelings for him.

_BARRY ALLEN DISHES ON MUSIC, LOVE, AND HIS BAD BOY IMAGE AFTER SOLD-OUT CONCERT IN CHICAGO_

The headline was the first to pop up when Iris searched for Barry’s name, so she clicked on the link and started to scan the text. It wasn’t long before she saw her name.

_“The star, notoriously reluctant to talk about his personal life, opened up about his recent engagement to fashion icon and burgeoning philanthropist, Iris West. When asked about the criticisms regarding the speed of his engagement, he admitted, “I suppose some people might think it was fast, but if you ever met Iris, you would understand. She’s the most amazing person I’ve ever met. I didn’t expect to fall in love with her, you know, when we first met, and now I realize I never thought I could love someone as much as I love her. I know it probably sounds cheesy, but she makes me want to be the best person I can be. She grounds me. Like a lightning rod. And from the day we met, I’ve carried her with me. She’s in every song I write and – okay, I’m embarrassing myself now, aren’t I? You can tell me if I am. I just miss her, you know?”_

_When asked what it’s like to be on the road for so long, he explained, “It’s exhausting, of course, but there’s no better way to get out and meet my fans. I always meet such incredible people on the road. This time, though, every stop on the tour is one step closer to getting home to [Iris].”_

Iris smiled, lingering on the word “home.” She wanted to believe his words were true and not just pretense, all part of the charade. She wanted him there with her. With a sigh, she tore her attention from the article to look at her schedule for the day. She was supposed to attend an event for charity that evening, which would not only allow her to network for Mason but would help her bring attention to a worthy cause. But when she checked on the details, she saw in e-mail in her inbox informing her that, due to an extensive kitchen fire at the venue the evening before, the event was being postponed.

As soon as she read the words, she flipped back to her calendar again, her breath catching in her throat. When she saw her schedule was free until the following evening, she grinned and almost bounced up and down in her chair as she searched for airline flights. For a moment, she considered texting Barry to let him know she was coming but decided in the end that it would be more fun to surprise him.

Her flight booked, Iris raced to the bathroom to shower and pack for her upcoming trip. She couldn’t wait to see the look on Barry’s face – or to fall asleep in his arms once more.

* * *

The roar of the crowd washed over him, and Barry bounced his weight onto his toes, throwing open his arms as he threw a grin towards his sea of fans. There was so much about touring that he hated. But these moments on stage – when the cheers and roaring excitement seeped into his skin, making his heart pound and his blood race – made the bad food; antiseptic, impersonal hotel rooms; and the endless, grueling hours on the road almost made it all worth it. If only he didn’t miss Iris so much that his longing was a physical ache. 

“How is everyone tonight?” he yelled into the microphone as he strummed the first note to kick off that evening’s set. The crowd roared again, and he bowed his head and began to play. The song ended, and he started to joke with the audience until his bass player caught his attention and nodded offstage with a smile. Confused, Barry followed his gaze, his heart skipping a beat when he saw Iris.

She was dressed in torn jeans and a t-shirt from one of his old shows, pilfered from his bottom drawer. When he caught her eye, she threw him a cheeky smile and a wave. Barry stopped his story mid-word, tempted to race to her side. Instead, he turned to the audience and said conspiratorially, “You’ll have to excuse me, but it looks like my fiancée has decided to surprise me.” The crowd cheered, and he threw them a smile and then looked back at her and tossed his head, silently inviting her to join him onstage. She narrowed her eyes and shook her head.

“I think she’s shy,” he murmured into the microphone, eliciting laughter from the crowd. “Maybe she needs a little encouragement?” The crowd roared, but Iris didn’t move. “If I play a song for her, do you think I can convince her to come out here to give me a kiss?” He glanced at Iris again and she laughed and stuck her tongue out at him. “But what should I play?” he asked, his eyes locked on hers.

Iris lifted her eyebrows and threw him a teasing grin, and he lifted one arm, encouraging the crowd to shout suggestions. But they only suggested his songs, and he was afraid that would somehow reveal too much, that she would realize how much of her was in his songs if he sang them to her. The audience quieted when he grabbed the stool nearby and perched on the edge. Throwing his band a slight shake of his head to let them know not to play along, he began to strum his guitar and turned so that he could watch Iris as he sang softly into the microphone.

 _“When the rain is blowing in your face, and the whole world is on your case, I could offer you a warm embrace. To make you feel my love.”_ He threw Iris sheepish look, hoping she liked the song, and saw that she was biting her lip, shifting her weight back and forth. He continued, _“When the evening shadows and the stars appear, and there is no one there to dry your tears, I could hold you for a million years. To make you feel my love.”_

Iris didn’t tear her eyes from his as she stepped forward. A slight murmur arose from the crowd when she appeared onstage, but it was muted quickly as though they were afraid of ruining the moment.

_“I know you haven’t made your mind up yet, but I would never do you wrong. I’ve known it from the moment that we met. No doubt in my mind where we belong.”_

Iris stopped a few feet away, and Barry stood. His band started to play softly as he lifted the guitar over his head and placed it aside. Then he stepped closer to her, his mind only on her as he continued to sing.

 _“I’d go hungry, I’d go black and blue. I’d go crawling down the avenue. There is nothing that I wouldn’t do. To make you feel my love.”_ He lifted a hand and brushed her hair back, stroking the soft skin of her cheek as he continued, _“The storms are raging on a rollin’ sea and on the highway of regret. The winds of change are blowin’ wild and free. You ain’t seen nothin’ like me yet.”_ He drew her into his arms, pulling her tight against him, and she curled her arms around his neck and melted into him as he finished his song, his voice barely above a whisper. 

He could have been singing to her alone, and it was only the presence of the microphone that spoiled the image and made his voice carry across the crowd. _“I could make you happy, make your dreams come true. There is nothing that I wouldn’t do. Go to the ends of the earth for you. To make you feel my love.”_

As the song ended, he bent, bracing her with his arms as he lowered her into a deep dip. His mouth crushed against hers, and the roar of the crowd pressed against them like a physical weight. The roar grew louder the longer they kissed, but Barry barely noticed. His heart lighter just having her in his arms, he finally put her back on her feet. Pressing his forehead against hers, he shrugged out of his trademark coat and slung it over her shoulders, whispering, “Baby, I missed you so much.”

* * *

Later, after returning home, to her loneliness and her responsibilities, Iris would close her eyes and relive the feeling of Barry’s arms around her. His lips against her skin. His song as it washed over her. She would remember how he sang the words like he meant them, and how he looked when he came to her after the show, his hair damp with sweat.

She was waiting for him in his dressing room backstage. In a moment of impulse, she’d stripped out of her clothes, dressing herself in nothing but one of the towels he so hated as she waited for him. It was barely enough to cover her chest, tantalizing glimpses of skin peeking through the folds. As the door slammed behind him and he reached behind his back to lock it, his gaze swept over her. Then, in two long slides, he was across the room, lifting her into his arms. He stepped forward and pressed her against the wall, sliding a thigh between her legs to hold her in place as she tore his shirt over his head. 

“You’re right,” he growled, yanking the towel open until it fell on the floor at their feet. “I love these towels.” And then his mouth was on hers, his hands caressing her skin, his head bowing as he licked the soft swell of her breasts.

They made love there, against the wall, their hands and mouths desperate as they held each other. She moaned when he moved inside her, willfully losing herself in his touch. She tightened her legs around him, rolling her hips to meet his thrusts. Gasping his name into his ear in lieu of the words she didn’t dare say.

When she first returned home, she would think of those moments when she was alone in his bed, trailing her hands over her body and pretending that they were his. Later, she would try not to think of them, cursing her memory and her imagination, that she could no longer separate fantasy from recollection.

She would try and fail not to think about the next morning. Their sleepy embrace when she awoke in his arms, never wanting the moment to end. Greedy for each other, they made love all morning, only reluctantly stopping when she realized she would miss her plane.

When she grabbed her bag and headed for the door, he stepped behind her and wrapped her in his arms, ducking to press a kiss against the side of her neck. As she lifted her hand to run her fingers through his hair, he murmured against her skin, “Listen. I’ve been doing a lot of thinking, and I think…when I get back, we should talk. About our future. There’s something I-I need to tell you.”

Alone in the dark, she would dwell on those words, mulling over the weight of them. Whispering them in the night to feel how they tasted in her mouth. She wondered at his tone, imagining pauses and emphasis where there had been none. 

“I think we should _talk_ ,” she whispered into her pillow. Had he stressed that word, a dramatic portend of what was to come? Had she been so blind, so giddy to be in his arms that she’d missed it? Or was her mind playing tricks on her now that she realized what he had meant? “About _our_ future? About our _future_?”

She groaned, pressing the pillow against her mouth the muffle the sound. She had mulled over those words, weighing them over and over in her mind, until she could no longer remember just how they had been spoken. But did it really matter?

It didn’t. Because the next time she saw him, he broke her heart.


	17. Chapter 17

He had almost told her the truth.

He’d been thinking about it for weeks. Wanting to tell her how he felt. He’d even rehearsed what he was going to say as he combed his hair in the morning and climbed into bed at night.

He’d almost told her when he first saw her there, standing at the side of the stage. But with all those people around, he hadn’t been able to find the words.

He’d almost told her again when he saw her backstage, after the show. But then he’d realized she was dressed in nothing but a towel and all thoughts of a confession had fled.

After making love to her that night, with her curled up in his arms. But she’d fallen asleep. In the morning, in between sleepy kisses. But then fear crept in. What if she didn’t feel the same way? What if it ruined everything?

The courage only came when it was too late, and so he’d told her he wanted to talk to her about their future and let her go so she wouldn’t miss her plane. Because they weren’t words that should be hastily blurted as she rushed out the door.

But he wanted to tell her he loved her. He didn’t think he could bear to keep his feelings secret much longer. 

“I’ve been thinking a lot. About our future. And I don’t want to lie about us anymore. I want this to be real. Iris, I’m in love with you. Whatever direction my life goes in the future, I want it to be with you. And we don’t have to really be engaged right now, if you aren’t ready for that, but I want to go on a date. With you. A real date. What do you think?”

Barry grimaced at his reflection as the muttered question left his lips. That was terrible, and not just because he was practicing his confession around a toothbrush as he got ready for bed. He made a living through words; why was it that every time he tried to find the perfect words to tell Iris how he felt, he sounded like an eighth grader asking his first crush out to the prom?

Scowling, he finished getting ready for bed and then grabbed his phone. He could text her. No, that was a terrible idea. There were two things Barry firmly believed should never be done over text – breaking someone’s heart and confessing your deep and abiding love for them.

Over the phone? It wasn’t much better. Less impersonal than text, to be sure, but it still felt like the coward’s way out.

So what was he going to do? He had to tell Iris he loved her. He had to know if there was even the slightest chance that one day she might feel the same way about him.

He began to pace back and forth, muttering mangled bits of previously rejected confessions. And then he had an idea. In two nights, he was performing a show in Star City. It wasn’t part of the official tour, but billionaire Oliver Queen had booked him for an exclusive event – a surprise belated birthday party for his sister, Thea. Normally he wouldn’t have tried to squeeze an extra event into an already packed tour schedule, but Thea had been a fan from the very early days of his career, and he and Oliver had struck up an unlikely friendship over the years. He suspected they both felt the same internal conflict of trying to live up to society’s expectations while also feeling inside like they might have been destined for more.

At any rate, given Oliver’s love-hate relationship with publicity, he should be able to offer some guidance, even if his love life had historically been something of a wreck. He seemed to have found more solid footing in his relationship with Felicity Smoak, so Barry hoped he would have some words of wisdom to share. Whatever he said, it had to be better than Barry’s own pathetic attempts at confession.

* * *

“Barry! You were amazing!” Thea exclaimed as she threw her arms around him in a big hug. “Thank you for agreeing to do the show. I don’t know how my brother talked you into it; I know you’re busy with your tour.”

“Anything for my number one fan, Thea,” he said with a smile, returning the embrace.

Stepping back, she grinned up at him. “Do you mean number one as in ‘biggest’ or in the ‘I knew you before you were famous’ kinda way?” she teased.

He faked a grimace. “Don’t remind me.” He’d first met Thea before he hit it big, right after he and Cisco formed their band and spent their weekends playing for drunk college students at frat parties. She’d attended one of the parties in question and had approached them after to say she thought they had a lot of talent. She’d offered to help bankroll their first album, with the help of her personal trust fund, but that was in the days before either man considered music a viable career and they’d turned her down. And so, when hobby became passion project and passion project became a career, Barry ended up making connections in the music business on his own. But the memory of Thea’s faith in him had helped him resist the temptation to give up in the early years, when faith in himself was sometimes hard to find.

“Hey, just remember, we could have been partners!” she replied, though her words came with a smile that promised him she didn’t bear a grudge for turning her down, all those years ago.

Barry laughed and caught her brother’s eye as he approached for a hug of his own. “Yeah, but then I’d have to put up with this guy more often,” he joked.

“Oh, you’re right. Good call, then. Definitely not worth it.” Thea laughed at her brother’s scowl. Meanwhile, Barry stepped past Oliver to greet his girlfriend, Felicity, taking an awkward moment to decide if a handshake or a hug would be more appropriate. In the end, they both settled on a stilted one-arm embrace, quickly ended. 

As he pulled away, he heard Thea gasp. “Oh, my god. She came!” Her voice was an excited squeal as she raced past Ollie towards the door. After glancing towards the doorway, her brother mumbled a promise to return in a moment and followed.

“Who’s that?” Barry asked, watching as Thea threw her arms around a tall brunette in a black dress that could have been painted on.

Next to him, Felicity shrugged, grabbing a drink off a passing waiter’s tray. “Laurel. Amazing Laurel. Lovely Laurel. Perfect Laurel.” When Barry glanced at her, she added, “Lovely Laurel who used to be Oliver’s fiancé. Don’t tell me you haven’t heard about her miraculous return from the dead?”

“I’ve been on the road!” he cried defensively. He knew of Laurel and Oliver’s past from his years of knowing Thea in college, but he hadn’t realized she’d returned. Though he supposed in the past several weeks, he had heard snippets, fragments of news stories while flipping through the channels at night before crawling into bed. Watching the woman smile at Thea and ignore Oliver completely, the pieces started to come together.

Laurel Lance had been Oliver’s on-again-off-again ex-fiancée. The week after college graduation, the two had taken a private cruise on the Queen’s family boat to repair their somewhat fractured engagement. The ship hit a storm, and Laurel had gone overboard. Her disappearance had been covered extensively – as had the Queen and Lance families’ efforts to find her. Her body had never been recovered, and she had eventually been presumed dead. Her father, Quentin Lance, had made it very clear that he held Oliver personally responsible for his daughter’s death.

Over the last few weeks, Barry had heard snippets of stories proclaiming the miraculous return of Laurel Lance, as well as her reluctance to give many details on where she’d been in the intervening years. The name had sounded vaguely familiar, but he’d flipped channels and hadn’t given it sufficient thought to remember why.

“That must be complicated,” he remarked, following Felicity to a table to take a seat. Seeing the scowl on her face, he asked, “I know it’s none of my business, but you’re not, um, worried about Oliver, are you?”

“The press keeps asking me the same thing, curiously enough. They won’t leave me alone about it.”

“I don’t mean to pry,” he offered apologetically.

Felicity sighed. “No, I know. It’s not you. The truth is, it’s not about Ollie. He swears that his feelings for Laurel are in the past, and I believe him.”

There was enough reluctance in her voice, that he prompted, “But?”

“But,” she parroted, drawing out the word before letting her voice trail off again as she stared into her drink. Finally, she lifted her gaze to his. “Ollie is the love of my life, and I don’t regret a single minute I’ve been with him. But his life is so public, every moment I’m with him is like living in a spotlight. I can’t even leave the house now without press asking me what I think about the unexpected return of his ex-girlfriend. I can barely get five minutes alone with him to talk about it.” She threw him a wry smile. “I love him, but sometimes I wonder. If I’d known what being with him was going to be like, would I have called in sick that day at work when we first met?”

Barry didn’t know how to respond to that, so they sat in silence until they saw Laurel give Thea another hug. Then she turned, said a few words to Oliver, and left as he made his way back to the table.

Some time later, the party was winding down and Barry found himself alone at the table with Oliver while Felicity chatted with Thea. Not certain if they were good enough friends for him to intrude, Barry chose his words carefully as he ventured, “Hey, are you okay?” When Oliver shot him a look out of the corner of his eye, he added, “You’ve been kind of quiet tonight. You want to talk about it?”

Oliver threw him a grim smile. “I take it Felicity told you about Laurel?”

“I could have heard it from the news,” he protested slightly.

Oliver grunted and shook his head. “It’s okay. I haven’t really been there for her lately. Not like I should have been. I’m glad she talked to someone.”

Barry took a sip of his beer as he considered his next words. “She wants to be there for you, you know.”

“I know. I just can’t stop thinking about my mistakes. About everything that happened with Laurel.” At his companion surprised look, he grimaced. “Don’t take that the wrong way. It’s not that I want to be with her now. I’m not the person I was when I was with her, and maybe losing her the way I did is part of the reason why. Living with the questions and the guilt, maybe it made me grow up a little. 

“But I can’t help but wonder what happened to her that night. What she’s been through. I look at her now, and I can see that she’s not the woman she used to be. Maybe she’s better. I don’t know. But I can’t help but think that whatever happened to her, it’s my fault. She wouldn’t have been on that boat that night if it wasn’t for me. So I feel like even knowing me ruined her life, and there’s nothing I can do to fix it.”

* * *

It was still dark outside when Barry awoke to the sound of his phone ringing insistently on his hotel room nightstand. Keeping his eyes closed, he rolled over and grabbed for it, answering it with a grunt that approximated an incoherent hello.

“Mr. Allen. I’m sorry to bother you, but I thought you would want to know about this right away.”

It was Ralph Dibny, a member of his security team. Responsible for Iris’s detail. In a split second, Barry was instantly awake, clutching his phone in his fist as he sat bolt upright in bed. “What happened?”

* * *

Iris was alone. It wasn’t just Barry’s absence that made her feel so lonely. There was nobody she could talk to about it. Nobody she could confess her feelings to. Nobody who would understand. Almost everybody she knew thought her relationship with Barry was real, and everybody else thought it wasn’t. The truth was somewhere in the middle, and nobody would understand that. So Iris was alone.

She ducked her head, foregoing a struggle with her umbrella as she raced to the door. She ignored two flashes to her left, even as she recognized some grudging admiration for the dedication necessary to stand out in the rain on the off chance they caught a photo of her.

It was exhausting, and she had no idea how Barry managed it for so long. It was only bearable to her because it was worth just about anything, loving him. Being with Barry made her happy. Everything else – the fans and fame and paparazzi around every corner – was just a distraction. Window dressing. Stuff and nonsense. It was part of the life he led, and so she accepted it as the price she paid for loving him. But she would have been just as happy without it, if it meant walking up every morning with him in her arms.

_“When I get back, we should talk. About our future. There’s something I-I need to tell you.”_

She smiled as she remembered his words because she realized he was right. They needed to talk. She needed to tell him that she loved him. That she wanted to spend the rest of her life with him. That she was tired of pretending like it was all an act when, for it, it had become all too real.

For so long, she’d struggled to hide her feelings, afraid of what would happen if he discovered that she loved him. Afraid he wouldn’t love her in return. The thought was still frightening – terrifying, really – but if she’d learned anything from living without him for these last few weeks, it was that she didn’t want to live that way anymore. She didn’t want to have half of him and lie to herself that it was enough. Maybe she would lose him, telling him the truth. But if she kept her silence, she would lose him anyway, once his contract with Mason concluded.

“When he gets home, I’m going to tell him the truth,” she whispered to herself as she slid her key into the lock and twisted. The storm had picked up, and she hunched her shoulders to block out the wind and rain. “Once life with him is back to normal.” She turned the knob in her hand and stumbled inside, her wet feet sliding a little on the polished tile. Slamming the door behind her, she leaned against it, groaning, “God, I can’t wait for life to get back to normal.”

She heard a sound and opened her eyes to find Barry standing in the middle of his living room, staring at her with an inscrutable look on his face. Behind him, she saw that he’d already set two places for dinner, and she could tell at a glance that he’d gone all out to impress her. She blinked, frowning slightly, as it took her a second to realize that it was real, that she wasn’t imaging things. He looked so good in ratty old jeans and a faded t-shirt; it was hard to believe he was truly there.

“Barry!” she yelled, launching herself off the door and into his arms. His arms almost crushed the breath out of her as he lifted her off her feet. 

He was home, and she was in his arms. Right where she belonged.

* * *

There are times in life that everything comes together perfectly. All the pieces fall into place, and you feel like everything has been building to one moment. The universe conspires to give you one perfect moment. Maybe you turn left instead of right, and you meet that one person who can give you your first big break. Maybe you duck into a coffee shop instead of rehearsing before a show, you see a woman’s smile from across the room, and something deep in your soul recognizes you were born to love her.

But sometimes things go the other way. Sometimes it feels like the universe is conspiring to rip your heart out of your chest and break it into a thousand pieces. Though she couldn’t possibly have known it, Iris’s words, muttered as she leaned against the door, were that last piece falling into place. Everything in the last few days was coming together to break Barry’s heart.

_“I love him, but sometimes I wonder. If I’d known what being with him was going to be like, would I have called in sick that day at work when we first met?”_

_“Knowing me ruined her life, and there’s nothing I can do to fix it.”_

_“Iris is fine, but there have been some developments that you should know about…”_

_“God, I can’t wait for life to get back to normal.”_

Barry held Iris to him, burying his face in her hair. His arms trembling like it was the last time he would ever hold her this way.

“I wasn’t expecting you home tonight!” Iris cried, cupping his face in her palms and pressing her lips against his.

_“Iris has been getting some threats online. She doesn’t think it’s anything to worry about yet, but I think we should increase her detail until we know for sure. Some people have been threatening to show up at all her public engagements to tell her to leave you alone. Mostly the usual threats, but what is concerning is that they have said enough to suggest that they have gotten their hands on her schedule somehow. And that is a concern…”_

“I wasn’t expecting to be here. But I had the evening off, so I thought I’d come see you.”

_“We recently caught someone peering into the apartment windows. He didn’t try anything, and luckily, she wasn’t home. She had gone to see you…”_

“Oh, I’m so glad you did,” she breathed, pressing her forehead against his.

_“But when my guys caught him, he was carrying pictures of her…”_

Barry tried to ignore the voices in his memory to focus instead on the woman in his arms. “I made dinner. Are you hungry?”

Iris laughed. “Starved.”

They sat down to eat, and at first, he cold pretend like the rest of the world didn’t exist. But the voices didn’t leave him alone.

_“I love him, but sometimes I wonder. If I’d known what being with him was going to be like, would I have called in sick that day at work when we first met?”_

_“Knowing me ruined her life, and there’s nothing I can do to fix it.”_

_“He swears he didn’t intend her any harm, but who knows what would have happened if she had been home…”_

_“I can’t wait for life to get back to normal.”_

_God, she’s beautiful_ , he thought as he stared across the table at her, her smile illuminated by the flickering candlelight. But then he remembered the sadness in Felicity’s eyes. The regret in Oliver’s. And the weariness and longing in Iris’s voice when she’d longed for the life she used to have.

_“I love him, but sometimes I wonder.”_

_“I ruined her life, and there’s nothing I can do to fix it.”_

_“I can’t wait for my life to get back to normal.”_

He couldn’t put it off any longer. Taking a deep breath, he steeled himself for what he needed to do. “Iris, when you came to see me, I told that you we need to talk about the future…”

“I remember!” she interjected. “And, actually, I wanted to talk to you about that, too. Barry, I –”

“I think we should end this. We can wait until the tour is over, if you want. I mean, I did promise to be there for you, and I don’t want you to think I’m not. But we should talk to Mason about how to announce the end of our engagement when the tour is over. We should start preparing for it now.”

Iris froze and stared at him with wide eyes. Unable to hold her gaze, Barry let his drop to the plate in front of him, which is when he realized he’d barely touched his food. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled. “I didn’t mean to surprise you.”

He heard her make a soft sound, a nearly inaudible clearing of her throat. When he looked up at her again, he saw that her face was devoid of expression. “Oh,” she breathed, carefully putting her fork down on her plate before dropping her hands to her lap. “I – um – I guess I am surprised. I thought you wanted to wait until you were offered a role that demonstrated your image had changed…”

Barry winced into the silence that fell when her voice trailed off. Then he shrugged. “I did, originally. But I’ve been thinking about it lately, and who knows when that will happen? Or even if. I can’t ask you to put your life on hold for something that may never happen.”

“You’re not asking me to put my life on hold. We have an agreement, remember?”

“I know,” he answered, somehow made even more miserable because she sounded so calm, so unaffected. “But still, I-I think it’s time to put an end to it. I’m sorry.”

Iris cleared her throat, louder this time, as she took a sip of her wine. “Don’t apologize. This is business, right? That’s all this is. Business. So why are you sorry?” Silence fell between them, and she worried the corner of her napkin between her hands. “All right, have you thought about what you want to say? How you want this to go? I should probably take the blame for the breakup so—”

“No!” he cut her off. “That is one thing I am sure about. We can say that we grew apart while I was away or that we realized that my being on the road so much was going to be too hard. But I will take the blame. Not you.” He reached for her hand, but she either didn’t see it or she ignored it because she didn’t reach back. “I don’t want to make this any harder on you that it’s already been.”

Her smile was tight as she tossed her hair behind her shoulder and flung her napkin on top of her unfinished plate. “It’s not that hard, Barry. Like I said, this is business. Business arrangements end all the time. Right?” He was too miserable to respond and wasn’t sure what he would say anyway, so he did what he had learned early in his career to do when he couldn’t find the right words. He stayed silent.

“Well, I suppose you have a point,” she mused, pushing her chair away from the table. “If you announce that you were the one to end it, people won’t be as surprised when they hear you found someone else to date on the road.”

Barry shook his head, reaching for her again, but she stood and started to pace, ignoring his hand. He rose to his feet behind her. “That isn’t what this is about, Iris –”

“No, of course not,” she cut him off. “This is just the inevitable conclusion to the agreement we made. But they don’t know that, and we don’t want them to know that. We don’t want them to ever know all of this was a lie. Every single second of it. So you have to do the smart thing, and that means being seen dating someone else. When the time is right, of course.” 

She spun on her heel to face him. “You’re right. You should be the one to break it off. Because then the world won’t see you as the one who was heartbroken. They’ll see me as the one who wasn’t good enough. That’s better.”

“That’s not what I want,” he protested, grabbing her shoulders to stop her pacing. He stared into her eyes, willing himself to see something. Any indication that he had meant something more to her. That all of this had meant more to her than just a business transaction. But perhaps it was better that he didn’t. At least he knew he hadn’t hurt her.

“Why not?” she asked. “It’s the truth.” When he started to protest, she gave a quick shake of her head. “I mean, it’s the truth we need them to believe. We need them to think that you’re still the good guy, or all of this has been for nothing.”

Barry didn’t know which hurt more – losing her, or knowing she didn’t care if he did. “I-I should go,” he blurted abruptly, grabbing his jacket and heading for the door. “I have a show tomorrow.”

“Yes, of course. I’ll have all my stuff out of here by the time you return home.”

“No, that’s –” he began to protest before realizing how absurd it would be to try. He was breaking off their pretend engagement. She could hardly continue to live with him under the circumstances. “I-I don’t want to lose you, Iris. You’ve meant too much to me.”

It was the first time he saw a reaction from her as she winced at his words. Her gaze fell to the floor, but her eyes were hard when she looked up at him again. “Don’t be silly, Barry. None of this was real. You know that better than anyone. And you can’t lose something you never had.”

He could no longer stand to hear the truth or see it in her eyes. So he fled. He’d been afraid he was going to break her heart, but it turned out the only heart he broke was his own.


	18. Chapter 18

“I really want to commend you on your performance lately,” Mason praised her, leaning back in his chair. “You’ve been doing a great job of toeing the line between feigning strength and heartbreak. Maybe you should have gone into acting.”

Iris forced a laugh, knowing it was the expected response. She speared her fingers into her hair until she realized that the gesture might betray her nervousness. Fisting her hands in her lap, she cleared her throat. “So what’s next?”

“Well, I think the time has come to shift the narrative. You’ve done a great job of getting fan sympathy without casting Barry in a bad light. But that’s a delicate balancing act, and we can’t keep it up forever. If we want to continue selling the image of Barry as a romantic lead, then we need to show him being romantic again. But I can’t show him on the dating scene if the world thinks you’re heartbroken at home.”

Her heart sank, but she tried not to let her smile fall. She even attempted a joke. “Okay, so I assume that means you want me to start dating again. If only for the cameras. Who’s my next victim?”

Mason chuckled. “I’ve been thinking about it, and there’s someone I have in mind. Aspiring actor. Pretty new to the scene. Don’t worry that I’m foisting a nightmare off on you. He’s good looking. Charming. No heavy lifting on this one. No image rehab needed. Just one or maybe two public dates. Get photographed having fun together, let people speculate, spread some rumors. Let people realize you’re over Barry. And you’re in the clear.”

“And this guy you have in mind. He’s agreed to this?”

“He has. In fact, he’s excited about it. When you think about it, it’s a no lose situation for him. And it might give us an indication of whether your fans are in for the long haul or if you’ll have your life back sooner than you think. If your newfound fame is based off genuine interest in you and not just your supposed relationship with Barry, Eddie should benefit from being seen dating you. If it was just about Barry, you and your heartache will remain the story, Eddie will be a footnote in it, and we’ll use this date to tie him romantically with someone else. We’ll say the two of you didn’t hit it off but you introduced him to…whoever it is we put him with next. Sound good?” 

Not really. It sounded awful. But she could hardly say as much without inviting questions she didn’t want to answer. So instead, she lied, “Sounds perfect. So when do you want me to put on this little performance?”

Mason grinned. “How about tonight?”

* * *

_DOES BARRY ALLEN HAVE A NEW GIRLFRIEND?_

_BARRY ALLEN’S WILD AND SEXY NIGHTS OUT_

_BARRY ALLEN DATING RUMORS_

_THE TRUTH ABOUT BARRY ALLEN’S LIFE POST-IRIS_

_HAS BARRY ALLEN MOVED ON FROM IRIS?_

_BARRY ALLEN LOVES – A LIST OF ALL WOMEN HE’S DATED_

_BARRY ALLEN ‘IN A GOOD PLACE’ POST-IRIS_

_BARRY ALLEN RUMORED TO BE LOOKING FOR TRUE LOVE_

_WHAT WENT WRONG BETWEEN BARRY ALLEN AND IRIS WEST?_

Iris grimaced and slammed her laptop shut. It had been stupid of her to run a search on Barry’s name – particularly since she’d hardly needed to go out of her way to find out how he was doing. The headlines about him followed her. To the grocery store checkout line. Her morning news feed. Even random people on the street had been emboldened to ask her questions she didn’t know how to answer. Why did she and Barry break up? She wished she knew.

But even though it felt like she was inviting death by a thousand cuts, Iris couldn’t resist the urge to look for news on Barry. To seek a glimpse into his world, find out how he was doing. She told herself she just wanted to know that he was okay, and she couldn’t ask Mason or Linda without raising some questions. The truth was, part of her wondered if she wasn’t just a masochist. Every word she read about Barry broke her heart, but she couldn’t resist.

And so, every day, she broke her own heart. Over and over and over again. Her laptop was closed, but she could still picture the headlines. Barry Allen looking for true love. Barry Allen, rumored to be linked romantically with someone new. Barry Allen, happy in life and love with Iris West out of the picture.

It was all she could do to resist the urge to throw her laptop out the window. Instead, she breathed out a long breath as she looked around at all the boxes piled up in her new apartment. She didn’t fool herself into thinking she could stay off the radar of press and paparazzi forever. She just prayed her location stayed secret for a few weeks more. Long enough for her to lick her wounds in private. Get over her heartbreak.

Oh, who was she kidding? Her heart wouldn’t be healed in a few weeks. She wondered if it would be healed in a few years. But at least in time, she might learn how to pretend.

There was a knock on the door, and Iris sighed and slipped into her heels. Speaking of pretending. It was time to put on a show.

* * *

“So, what’s the verdict? Have you picked a favorite?” 

Iris turned at the question whispered into her ear and threw her date a smile. “Not yet,” she replied before turning her attention back to the sculpture in front of her. “This one is…um…interesting?”

Eddie Thawne chuckled and followed her gaze. “Yeah, it’s…hm.” He tilted his head to the side and considered the chunk of welded nuts and bolts. “I understand there are some beautiful paintings in the next room. Want to check them out?”

“Sure,” she agreed, fighting back her flinch when he put his hand on her lower back to guide her across the room. In the past two hours, Iris had found Eddie Thawne to be everything Mason had promised. He was handsome. Charming. Adept at selling the fiction that this date wasn’t just a PR stunt. But he simply wasn’t the man she wanted. She’d feel guilty about that if she thought he wanted to be that man. Or if she had the slightest impression she was the woman he wanted.

They paused in front of a painting and Eddie threw her another of his warm smiles. He leaned down and whispered in her ear, asking if she would like a glass of champagne from the nearby bar. Playing his part perfectly. Iris nodded and felt him leave her side. As she turned to watch his progress across the room, she saw two figures enter the room.

Barry Allen. With Patty Spivot on his arm.

For just a second, Iris felt her composure crack. Her mask slipped. Her smile crumbled. For just a second, anyone who looked would see that she was broken. Then she forced a smile – just in time for Barry to look her way. She caught his eye and reminded herself to breathe.

In retrospect, she had been stupid not to have suspected this was part of the plan. Iris had to be seen with someone new. It made sense for Barry to be, as well. It was the only way to ensure that the press would focus on new relationships, rather than supposed heartbreak. And, of course, putting the two of them at the same event would establish that they could be in the same room without incident. That there was no animosity between them. That they had moved on.

It made sense. It was the perfect plan. And Iris hated it. She hated the plan. She hated herself for agreeing to it – to any of it. She hated Mason. But mostly, at that moment, she hated Barry. She hated that he could look so handsome in his tuxedo when she was falling apart inside. She hated that just seeing him made her bleed from invisible wounds, but that didn’t stop her from loving him. She hated him for breaking her heart. And she hated him because he didn’t know – or perhaps he didn’t care. 

Barry stumbled to a halt, his eyes locked on hers. Then he grinned, that smile that had stolen her heart, and looked at her with questioning eyes. Taking that as an unspoken invitation, Iris wrinkled the silky fabric of her deep purple dress in her fists and stepped forward.

Time to put on a show.

* * *

“Hey, Iris,” Barry breathed the minute she drew near. He felt Patty stiffen next to him, saw her throw him a quick look out of the corner of his eye. She shifted closer, her presence a silent reminder of the part he was supposed to play. In return, he wrapped his arm around her waist, his own silent reassurance that he hadn’t forgotten. Even as he told his supposed ex-fiancée, “You look beautiful tonight.”“You’re looking good, too,” she replied, the sound of her voice washing over him like a long-forgotten memory. He ached to hold her, but she didn’t seem to notice as she continued warmly, “Patty! It’s nice to finally meet you.”

Patty took the hand she offered and replied in a friendly tone, “It’s nice to meet you, as well. I’ve heard so much about you. That’s a lovely dress.”

The two of them engaged in small talk as a stranger with blond hair and blue eyes approached, a glass of champagne in each hand. Barry understood it was all for show, but when Iris introduced him as her date, he had to tighten his hold around Patty’s waist to keep his hands from shaking. The four of them stood there for several minutes, engaging in friendly conversation. Ensuring that the press had plenty of opportunity see that there was no bad blood between them. 

Barry would have stayed there with Iris forever, his entire body aching to have her so close, but he could see the moment that she decided they’d talked for long enough. Wrapping her hand around Eddie’s arm, she leaned in and whispered something in his ear. Then she murmured, “We should go. But it was good to see you, Barry,” and turned to leave, Eddie’s arm wrapped around her waist.

Barry knew it was all for show. He knew Iris wasn’t dating Eddie. Didn’t care about Eddie. But it didn’t stop him from hating the other man, just a little bit.

“Iris, wait,” he blurted, stepping forward before he even realized the words had left his mouth.

She froze in her tracks and then turned slowly. Her eyes warned him not to speak as she said softly, “It’s okay, Barry. I want you to be happy. Just…be happy, okay?” Then, without giving him a chance to speak, she walked away.

* * *

That night, Iris lay in bed, trying to ignore the tears that trickled into her hair as she stared up at the ceiling. In one hand, she toyed with an engagement ring, tilting it left and right to glimmer in the moonlight. She should have left it at Barry’s when she left, but she’d told herself that she didn’t want to risk something happening to it in his absence. One never knew when someone might break in and steal a family heirloom.

But that, too, was a lie. She had just wanted to hold on to a piece of him. Wasn’t that how she hurt herself, time and time again? Wanting to hold on to a piece of Barry?

With a disgusted grunt, Iris jumped out of bed. She didn’t bother to change clothes. Instead, she slipped on her sneakers, grabbed her purse, and raced out the door, the ring clutched in her fist. Maybe she couldn’t fix her heartbreak. Maybe she couldn’t keep herself from looking up stories about Barry every day. But she could stop hurting herself with this. And perhaps, with luck, the rest would follow.

* * *

The recording studio was quiet, but there was a light on when she raced up the sidewalk. Her heart skipped a beat as she stepped inside, it occurring to her only belatedly that Barry might be inside. But when she crept to the control booth, she saw that the studio was empty. However, she saw an open package of Twizzlers next to the chair and breathed a sigh of relief. Cisco. 

She didn’t see him around, but she crept forward silently. With trembling fingers, she placed the engagement ring on top of the Twizzlers. Then she pulled Barry’s apartment key out of her purse and placed it next to the ring.

She turned to leave, but her attention was caught by the empty recording booth. She knew she should leave, but she couldn’t move. There were so many memories in that booth. It was where they had shared their first real kiss. She remembered the warmth of his body against hers as they made love.

The memories hurt, and she wanted to push them away. But she also knew that music was cathartic. Barry always said he put a lot of himself in his songs. She wasn’t much of a singer, but maybe she could give it a try. Pour her own heartache into a song. 

Maybe it would help her let him go.

Glancing over her shoulder to make sure she was alone, she crossed to the recording booth. She checked the light to ensure the system wasn’t recording, and then she stepped further into the room. Closing her eyes, she sucked in a deep breath. Then she opened them and stepped towards the stool in the center of the room. Where Barry had held her. Where he’d loved her. And she started to sing, her voice tentative and low.

_“Was there something more I could have done? Or was I not meant to be the one? Where’s the life I thought we would share? And should I care?”_

It was a song one of her college roommates used to play. When she was younger, Iris had thought the lyrics were sad. But she’d never felt them. Not until now. Her voice grew stronger as she slid onto the stool, her hand stroking the smooth wood finish.

_“And will someone else get more of you? Will she go to sleep more sure of you?” Her voice broke, but she clutched the edge of the stool and forced herself to continue. “Will she wake up knowing you’re still there? And why should I care?”_

She wanted to push away the memories of Barry, to deny their time together had ever existed. But she had to face it, if she wanted to say goodbye. To pour her pain into her song. But it was too much, staring at the place where Barry had once held her. So she closed her eyes, letting out a tiny sob when the first tear trickled down her cheek. Then, after a long moment, she continued.

_“There’s always one to t-turn and walk away. And one who just w-wants to stay.”_

Her entire body started to shake, and Iris wrapped her arms around her stomach, leaning forward as though she could physically hold herself together. Her breath was coming out in ragged gasps, making it hard for her to sing. She forced herself to remember how it felt to hold him in her arms. And she forced herself to remember how much it hurt when he let her go.

_“But who s-said that l-love is always f-fair? And w-why sh-should I c-care?”_

She broke off with a loud sob, and she bowed her head as she wept. Her fingers dug into her arms as she held herself. Iris knew she could stop this. She didn’t have to torture herself this way. But she’d tried to hide her pain for so long. She hid it from her dad. From Mason. From Linda. From Barry. As much as it hurt to embrace the pain, to allow herself to cry, she has been suffocating under the weight of the sorrow she had tried too long to deny. 

She was sobbing so hard that she could barely get out the words.

_“Sh-should I l-l-leave y-you alone i-in the d-d-dark? H-hol-holding m-my b-broken h-h-h-”_

Through her sobs and gasps for air, she heard a soft sound and ducked her chin, embarrassed that Cisco might have returned and caught her like this. Pressing her palms against her eyes, she tried to get a hold of herself, but it was no use. She couldn’t hold back her sobs, so she dropped her hands. “S-sorry Ci-Cisco. I–” she began. Then she opened her eyes.

It wasn’t Cisco in the room with her.

It was Barry.


	19. Chapter 19

Iris froze, staring at Barry with wide eyes. She could barely believe that he was standing there. She hiccupped and lifted a hand to her mouth to stifle her cries, squeezing her eyes shut. But it was no use. When she opened them again, he was still standing there. It wasn’t a trick of her imagination. 

“Iris,” Barry breathed, reaching for her.

She shook her head, almost falling backwards off the stool in her haste to get away from him. “D-don’t!” she commanded, though her ragged breathing took some of the force from the word. She turned, tilting her face away so he couldn’t see her tears.

“I just – I – I’m sorry. Iris…sweetheart, please –”

She spun around, throwing her hands up in a halting gesture. “No! I-I don’t w-want your pi-pity!” she cried, shoving past him and heading toward the door.

“It’s not…please, Iris. Please talk to me.” Something in his words or his tone stopped her in her tracks. She kept her body averted and closed her eyes, struggling to get her breathing under control. She considered running. Barry might ask her to stay, but he wouldn’t physically stop her. She could flee right now – race to her car and disappear. Barry didn’t know where she lived. He wouldn’t know where to find her.

But she couldn’t escape him forever. He followed her everywhere as it was. Haunting her. And she knew that, in the profession she had chosen, there was a reasonable chance their paths would cross again one day. If she had no choice but to face his pity sooner or later, she might as well get it over with now.

Keeping her back to him, she sighed, clenching her hands into fists so tight that her nails dug into her palms. She had almost gotten her breathing under control, but she needed another moment. “C-Could I have some wa-water?”

“You – you won’t leave?” he asked softly, moving past her when she shook her head. 

“I wo-won’t leave,” she promised.

* * *

Barry raced to the kitchenette and grabbed a bottle of water out of the small refrigerator. Even though she’d promised not to leave, he was afraid he’d return to the recording booth to find her gone. But when he returned, he found her sitting on the edge of the stool, her gaze averted.

Breathing a sigh of relief, he handed her the bottle. His heart broke into pieces all over again when he saw the trembling in her hands as she lifted it to her mouth and took a sip. “Thank you,” she murmured. 

Barry wished she would look at him, but she refused to raise her gaze. Shoving his hands into his pockets, he stifled a sigh of frustration and regret. Things used to be so comfortable between them. When had they become so complicated?

Oh. Right. When he broken off their relationship, thinking the only person he was hurting was himself. “Iris?” he began in a soft voice.

“I – um – I didn’t expect to see you here,” she blurted, cutting him off. Her voice was a bit steadier than it had been moments before, her breathing more regular.

He didn’t doubt it, given that she couldn’t even stand to look at him now. “I’m working on my next album,” he replied inanely.

“Already?”

Though she wasn’t looking at him, he shrugged. He wanted to tell her that he was using music to process his own heartache, but he couldn’t find the words. How was it that the only words he couldn’t find were the ones that mattered most?

Rushing to fill the silence, Iris continued, “Anyway, I thought you were Cisco. I saw the – um – the Twizzlers.”

“I got hungry, so I raided Cisco’s stash,” he admitted. Unable to bear it any longer, he said, “Iris, we should talk about –”

“Look,” she blurted. “I know what you’re going to say.”

Barry sighed and muttered, “That makes one of us. I’ve never quite known what to say to you.”

She pressed on. “And it’s okay, you know. You don’t have to say anything. You don’t have to apologize. It was my mistake. My confusion. You don’t have to worry that you – I mean, you never – you never lied to me. If I misunderstood, it was my own doing.”

Barry laughed, a harsh bark that cut through the air between them. “Oh, Iris. I lied to you all the time. In this entire mess, it seems like you may have been the only person I lied to. Every time I told you it was all an act, it was a l-”

She shook her head, and he could tell he wasn’t getting through to her. “Don’t lie! You don’t need try to make me feel better!” she snapped, finally meeting his eyes with a glare.

“It isn’t a lie!” he protested. He was desperate to make her understand, but he didn’t know how. “I told everyone the truth about how I felt about you. Everyone but you.” He stared into her face, but what he saw there made him curse and look away. Running a hand over the back of his neck, he mumbled, “I practiced this so many times…you’d think I’d be better at it by now. That I’d know what to say.”

Iris sniffled, wiping the back of her hand against her cheek. “It doesn’t matter,” she began, but he cut her off. 

Moving slowly, he brushed one tear off her cheek with his thumb. “Yes, it does. I –” He started to tell her he loved her, but she drew back and he knew she wouldn’t believe the words if he said them now. He wished he knew how to get through to her. 

Dropping his hand, Barry backed away several steps until his back was against the wall. Then he sank down on the ground, resting his arms on his knees. “You know,” he began, almost conversationally, “I’ve been wondering for weeks why it’s so hard to find the words to say how I feel.”

Iris sighed, her posture stiff, and crossed her arms over her chest. “I know why. We’re so used to pretending with each other, we don’t know what’s true anymore.”

He had come to the same conclusion, but he didn’t know how to get past it. Tilting his head to the side, he watched her silently for a moment, wondering how he could make her believe he loved her. She didn’t seem inclined to do so at the moment – or any time soon, for that matter. “Hey, do you want to hear a song?” he asked finally in an apparent change of subject.

Her eyes were guarded, her expression slightly confused, but she gave a slow nod of her head as he reached for his guitar. Strumming a few chords, he was struck by a sudden fit of nerves. What if she hated it? Bowing his head, he started to play.

 _“I know she’s out there waiting, just beyond my reach. Though I’ve never felt her hand in mine or tasted her name upon my lips.”_ He dared a glance up at her while he continued to sing. Her gaze was soft as she watched him, and he watched her lower her hands to her lap. But it wasn’t long before he had to look back at his guitar – his fingers were clumsy from nerves and lack of practice. He had only played this song once in the last several years - on the night they’d met, when some capricious impulse had inspired him to play it during his encore. It was like even then, his heart had known that he had met the woman he was born to love. _“No, we’ve never met, I haven’t found her yet, but I know her by heart.”_

When the song finally came to an end, he kept his head bowed, nervous about her reaction. Finally, she asked softly, “Is that the song you’re working on now? It’s nice.”

He looked up with a sheepish smile. “No, that’s actually the first song I ever wrote. It’s a little rough, so it’s never made it onto an album. I’ve only played it at a show once, so you can probably find it if you dig around a bit online.”

“Oh. It’s nice. You should release it.”

He shrugged. “It’s about you.” At her dubious expression, he explained, “Every song I’ve written is about you. I was writing about you before we even met. I didn’t know it, but every time I wrote a song about the love I hoped to find one day, I was singing about you.”

“Barry, you don’t have to –”

“Iris, it’s the truth. The one thing I said to you that was true is this: I love you.” Before she could protest further, he strummed a different chord. This time he held her gaze as he started to sing, _“I told you I loved you and pretended it was a lie. Hiding my heart so you didn’t see the truth. I held you in my arms and pretended that you were mine. Dreading the day we would say goodbye._

 _“I wielded silence as self-defense, pushing you away when I wanted to hold you close. And you took the shattered pieces of me with you when you walked away.”_ The song trailed off, but Barry refused to look away, watching as a tear trailed down her cheek.

“Is that the song you’re working on now?” Her voice was barely audible.

“Like I said, every song is about you.” Iris slid off the chair and moved silently towards him. When she knelt on the ground in front of him, he reached for her slowly, afraid of saying the wrong thing and pushing her away. “Iris…I’m sorry. When I broke things off that night…I never meant to hurt you. Honestly, I didn’t think – well, I didn’t think you would care. I thought the only heart I was breaking was my own.”

She started to lift a shoulder in a shrug and then paused, her gaze skittering away from his. After a second, though, she met his eyes bravely, though he could feel her tremble softly beneath his hands. “I cared. Why would you think I wouldn’t care?”

He grimaced. Part of him wanted to dodge the question, but he’d spent so much time hiding his feelings from her. He couldn’t do it anymore. “Being with me…the press, all the attention…I made your life so terrible, just by being in it. I thought you’d be happier if I let you go back to the life you had before.”

Iris stared at him with wide eyes, and then she did the last thing he expected. She laughed. “Oh, Barry. You’re kind of an idiot, has anyone ever told you that?”

“Um, well –” he stammered, confused.

Lifting her hands to cover his, she said earnestly, “I can never go back to the life I had before I knew you. And not because the cameras and the fame-by-proxy follow me wherever I go. Well, not entirely. I just tried, and I was absolutely miserable. All I could think about, every day, was how much I missed you. I don’t care about the paparazzi. I don’t care about the cameras. And I don’t care about the online fans. I want you, Barry Allen. I love you. I want to be with you. To hell with the rest of it.”

His hands shook as he moved them to her waist, pulling her forward. He knew he should move slowly, but his entire body ached to hold her. He trembled as he pulled her into his arms, and though he longed to kiss her, he wanted to this right for once. “I was an idiot. I never should have let you go, and I’ve missed you every second of every day since. Missing you has been like missing a part of myself. But…can I have another shot? A chance to get this right? Just you and me. No contracts, no publicists, no cameras. No lies. Can I take you out on a date?” When she hoped her mouth to answer, he rushed to say, “I know this is a lot to take in for one evening. You don’t have to answer tonight. You can think about it, and –”

Her smile lit up the room. “Don’t be silly, Barry. Of course I’ll go on a date with you. What did you have in mind?”

Barry couldn’t suppress his grin. He knew exactly where he wanted to take her for their first official date. “I was thinking of coffee.”

* * *

Iris was nervous the following evening as she walked through the front doors of the coffee shop where she had once worked. When Barry had suggested the place, she’d almost pointed out the strange coincidence. But then he’d said, “Five o’clock. Tomorrow night. Well, I guess that would be tonight. If you think about it today and change your mind, I’ll understand. But I –”

She’d interrupted him. “I won’t change my mind. Tonight. Five o’clock. I’ll be there.”

At the memory, she glanced at the watch on her wrist. 4:59. She was right on time. But glancing around at the tables, her heart sank. She didn’t see Barry. Just then, her phone beeped and she pulled it out. It was Barry.

_“Hey, can you grab us a couple cups of coffee? I’ll see you in a minute.”_

Though she understood how busy he was, she had to admit to a little disappointment that he was running late. Pushing it aside, she moved to stand in line, perusing the display case of baked goods as she waited.

She’d almost talked herself into one of the lemon bars when the younger girl in front of her – body tilted to the side under the weight of textbooks crammed into her backpack – moved aside. Iris stepped up to the register to place her order. “Good evening! Can I have –”

“Hey, sorry. I was just about to go on break. Let me get someone to help you.” A little surprised, Iris could only nod as the blonde barista turned and called to a coworker behind her. “Hey, can you help with this?”

“Sure thing.” The coworker responded, turning to take charge of the register. Her heart skipped at the sight of his familiar smile. “How can I help you, miss?”

“I – you – Barry? Wh-what are you –? What if someone recognizes you?” It wasn’t the most pressing question, but it was the first that came to mind.

“Hey, tonight I’m just a regular guy getting the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen a cup of coffee. And you know what? I think I know exactly what to get you. Do you trust me?”

Still confused about what was going on, she just nodded as he grabbed two cups and scribbled something on the sides. “Uh…sure.” He started to whistle as he wrestled with the coffee machine, steaming milk as he brewed some espresso. “Um, so, do you work here often?” Iris asked, still trying to make sense of what was going on.

“Not often,” he admitted. “But this coffee shop has a special place in my heart.” He paused as he frowned at the shots of espresso, which were only half-full. “You’re not going to ask me why?” he asked as he poured them out and tried again. One of his co-workers muttered something helpful, reaching around him and adjusting the settings on the machine to work properly.

“Oh, sure. But I didn’t want to distract you. You don’t seem like you have a lot of practice at this.”

“Well, it is my first day,” he admitted, pulling a shaker of something out of a pocket on his apron and adding it to the cups. Then he added the espresso, steamed milk, and some whipped cream. He topped it off with a bit more from the shaker and then handed one cup over. “Here,” he said with a smile. “Try this.”

Iris threw the cup a dubious look, noting the smiley face he’d drawn on the side. Something about this interaction seemed vaguely familiar, but she couldn’t put her finger on it. With a small frown of confusion, she took a sip, her eyes widening at the extra jolt of cayenne pepper. “Wait…how did you know –?”

“I told you this coffee shop has a special place in my heart,” he admitted, pulling off his apron and stepping around the counter. “I came in here once before a show and it was here that I met the most beautiful woman in the world. I was exhausted, and she made me a cup of coffee…while telling me that she wasn’t really a fan of my work.” Though he was smiling, the way he shifted his weight back and forth betrayed his nervousness. 

She frowned, pieces falling into place. “Wait…you said once…in an interview. You said you fell in love in a coffee shop.”

“No. I said I’d met someone I might be falling in love with in a coffee shop. Not exactly the same thing.” The corners of his eyes crinkled when he smiled. “It’s like I said last night. Everything I said about you was true…except when I told you I wasn’t in love with you.” Bowing his head, he drew her into his arms and brushed a kiss across her lips. “I love you, Iris. I love you so much.”

“I love you,” she breathed, throwing her arms around his neck. Pulling him down to press her forehead against his, she whispered with a giggle, “You are such a dork.”

Her lips met his, drawing him into a long kiss, as the woman who had been behind her in line murmured, “Wow. If that’s the kind of service you offer, I’m definitely coming here more often.”


	20. Chapter 20

_Blind Gossip – The recent breakup between this sexy rock star and his fashionable fiancée have made big news, but sources close to the couple say that it may have all been for show. Rumor is they’re closer than ever but trying to keep their relationship on the down-low. Dare we still hope for wedding bells in the future? Think you know the identity of our coy lovebirds? Sound off below!_

“Where are you going?” Iris asked sleepily as Barry yawned and slid silently out from under the covers. “Come back to bed.”

“I didn’t mean to wake you,” he murmured, bending over to press a kiss against her forehead. “I thought you might want some breakfast.”

She fisted a hand in his t-shirt and gave it a slight tug until he laid over her, his body pressing her into the mattress. “I don’t want breakfast. I want you to make love to me.”

“Make love to you?” he asked softly, brushing his lips against her cheek, remembering a time she would have phrased the request differently. He liked the way her words now felt on his tongue and in his heart.

Misinterpreting his repetition, she blushed. “Did that sound cheesy? It sounded, cheesy, didn’t it.”

“Not at all! Sweetheart, I’m always happy to make love to you. As long as you promise you won’t look away.”

She smiled. “So stop talking and hold me, already,” she demanded. 

Barry laughed and started to tease her. “You’re bossy in the morn-” But her lips were on his, her tongue delving into his mouth, before he could even get out the words.

* * *

_Royal Heartthrob? Barry Allen Lands Coveted Lead Role in Romantic Fantasy ‘A Royal Affair’_

The lights were off when Iris walked through the front doors, and she looked around in surprise. She’d received a message from Barry to meet her at the cozy restaurant for dinner, but there seemed to be nobody there.

“Hello? Anybody there?” she called out, wondering if she’d gotten the day or time wrong.

_“Can’t say how the days will unfold. Can’t say what the future may hold. But I want you in it. Every hour, every minute.”_

She recognized Barry’s voice as soon as he started to sing and turned towards the sound just as waiters dressed in black unobtrusively stepped forward and lit candles until the entire restaurant was lit by a warm glow. Then they melted into the shadows again, leaving Iris and Barry alone.

_“This world can race by far too fast. Hard to see while it’s all flying past. But it’s clear now, when you’re standing here now. I am meant to be wherever you are next to me.”_

“Barry, what is this?” she asked, looking at the table, shrouded in white-linens and covered with rose petals. Had he rented out the entire restaurant?

 _“All I want to do is come running home to you. Come running home to you. And all my life I promise to keep running home to you. Keep running home to you.”_ As she watched, he got down on one knee and pulled his mother’s engagement ring out of his pocket. Iris caught her breath as he held it out to her, his hands trembling softly.

_“And I could see it right from the start, right from the start. That you would be my light in the dark, light in the dark. Oh, you gave me no other choice but to love you.”_

Iris didn’t realize when she’d placed her hands over her mouth, but she felt her smile against her fingertips. Seeing her expression, he stopped singing just long enough to say, “I told you. Every song I write is for you. And they always will be.”

_“All I want to do is come running home to you. Come running home to you. And all my life I promise to keep running home to you. Keep running home, home to you._

_“Can’t say how the days will unfold. Can’t change what the future may hold. But I want you in it. Every hour, every minute.”_

As his song came to an end, she stifled her laugh with her hands. “You know, in a sense, we’re already engaged. We’ve been engaged this whole time.”

Barry grinned. “Yeah, but that was when I was pretending it was all an act. You deserve a proposal that’s real. Iris West, will you marry me? For real this time?” 

She nodded. “Oh, Barry. Of course I will.”

* * *

_Iris West and Publicist Linda Park Launch New Image Consultant Service, ParkWest Consulting_

“It looks like our opening announcement was a big success. What do you think?” Linda cried happily as she looked around at the tables of friends, colleagues, and potential clients who had come out to celebrate their new venture. “Hold that thought. I should touch base with Eddie.” Eddie Thawne had become a good friend since their one pretend-date, and he had agreed to be their first official client. He had also been the one to suggest they set him up with Patty Spivot, if she agreed to engage in the ruse. She was still struggling to rehabilitate her image, and he’d thought they could solve each other’s problems. And since everyone had seen pictures of the two of them talking at the art show, the ground work had already been laid. “If we want to get people talking about him and Patty, making them the new It Couple, we want to make sure everyone sees them together tonight. No rest for the wicked, right?”

As she left the table, Iris breathed a sigh of relief. “You know, there were times I was halfway convinced we’d never get here. It’s still pretty scary when I think about it too long.”

Barry pressed a kiss against her lips and murmured, “Really? I never had any doubt. I knew you could do it.”

“Yeah, but you’re not exactly unbiased.”

He shrugged. “True. But I was also technically your first client, so I knew what you were capable of.” Seeing the nervousness that still lingered, he brushed his thumb along the curve of her cheek. “Remaking an image isn’t about selling a lie, at least not to you. For you, it’s about letting people show who they really are. And that’s why you’re so good at this. It’s why I never doubted you would make this a success.”

She chuckled, pressing her cheek against his shoulder. “I appreciate the vote of confidence, but if that’s true, why do I still feel like I have a million butterflies ricocheting around my stomach?”

“Ah, well. That just means you need a distraction, Princess.” Under the tablecloth, he slowly slid his hand between her legs, his fingers inching up the hem of her dress.

Iris’s eyes went wide as she covered his hand with her own. “You wouldn’t!” she breathed, scandalized and – almost against her will – getting aroused at the thought. And the memory.

Barry’s smile was a wicked reminder of the night their former charade all began, when he reminded her he wasn’t wholesome – and implied he didn’t want to be. “Wanna bet?” 

His fingers started to stroke her through her panties and Iris had to stifle her gasp of arousal. “This is getting to be…a very bad…habit,” she moaned against his shoulder, pressing against him as he pressed his lips against the top of her head to stifle his responding laughter.

* * *

_EXCLUSIVE IMAGES of Top-Secret West-Allen Oceanside Wedding!_

“You seem lost in thought tonight,” Iris murmured as she curled up against him, her head rested next to his on his pillow. “Everything okay?” Stroking the line that had formed between his brows, she teased him, “You’re not regretting this marriage already, are you? It’s only been…what…six hours?”

“Of course not,” he replied quickly, though the frown line disappeared. “I was just…I was thinking about how we got here.”

“Ah, definitely a topic that should bring on grumpy face,” she said with mock seriousness, though the corners of her mouth twitched with a suppressed smile.

He chucked a brushed a kiss against the tip of her nose. “Okay, maybe not. But I was just thinking…earlier today, when I was standing up there, just waiting for the first glimpse of you. Halfway afraid you’d come to your senses and make a break for it. I realized that I made you a promise and I failed to live up to it.”

Her humor fading, Iris frowned, shifting her head on the pillow. “What do you mean?” she asked softly. “I don’t remember you breaking any promises.”

“I swore I would be there with you every step of the way, and then I just ended things. I hurt you, and I can’t forgive myself for that.”

Iris lifted a hand to brush his hair back from his forehead. “But babe, you said it yourself. You didn’t know –”

“I still broke my promise. I still hurt you.”

Pursing her lips, Iris thought over his words. “Well, if it makes you feel any better, I broke a promise, too.” At his confused expression, she continued, “I promised myself I wouldn’t fall in love with you and look what happened.”

Barry let out a surprised bark of laughter. “That’s not – Is that supposed to make me feel better? You realize that’s completely different, right?”

Her grin was mischievous as she threw her leg over his hips and lifted herself over him. “I thought it would make you feel better to know we’ve both made mistakes.”

Barry smiled in return. “Honey, I don’t know how to tell you this, but you really kinda suck at this pep talk thing.”

“Then I guess you’ll have to spend the rest of your life making your broken promise up to me, and I’ll have to spend the rest of my life making my sucky pep talks up to you. Does that sound fair?” she asked, shrugging out of the straps of her nightgown, letting it fall to a pool over her thighs.

Barry felt himself grow hard again and lifted his hand to her shoulders, gliding one slowly down her body to stroke her breasts. He linked his other hand in hers, stroking the gleaming golden band that symbolized the lifetime of love ahead of them. The reminder that the man who once believed he could never have a normal relationship had found a love that would last forever. He wanted to memorize this moment and her beauty, to carry them with him for the rest of his life. “Yeah,” he agreed, rocking against her until her head fell back with a gasp. “That sounds fair.”


End file.
